


The Sun, the Moon and the Stars

by Sarah_von_Krolock



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Espionage, F/M, From Sex to Love, Romance, nsfw later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-03-15 22:07:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 43,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13622484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah_von_Krolock/pseuds/Sarah_von_Krolock
Summary: To be clear: I did it for my own guilty pleasure“The First Order recognised you.”She is pointed to a bouquet resting in a vase in the centre of the table in the middle of the room. One of the most beautiful flowers this Galaxy has to offer. The Tellanadan moonflower. “The First order, you said?” She steps closer to the table, her fingertips touching the petals.“These are from General Hux from the First Order. He sends his regards and congratulates you for this splendid evening.”





	1. The Primadonna

It was one of those rare evenings where he has a few hours off - no. Actually he never has off. He´s always on duty. He only has a few hours to himself - no. Not even that. As soon as he gets a distress call he has to jump up and leave and making his way back onto the Finalizer as quickly as possible. It only promised to be a quiet evening without any disturbances or distress calls, so he took the liberty to grand himself a few hours of pleasure and spending these with a pleasure he can neither have on the Finalizer nor on Starkiller Base. Culture. Theatre, Plays, Opera, Ballet. The entertainment of the rich where it is all about to be seen for them. But to see the ballet dancers all in perfect synchronisation... There is order, a perfect choreography, and dancing perfectly lined up. Behind a play and Theatre is order too. Everybody has his role on and behind the stage. A play follows the simply rule of three acts, the beginning, the twisting point and the finale, always. And Opera... the sweetest and highest art of them all. Listening to the notes be played and sung is the sweetest order one can find in the whole Galaxy. It may seem like chaos at first, when a crescendo thunders but no. It can make him forgetting everything for just a few hours. Forgetting the Resistance. Forgetting Snoke. Forgetting... Ren. Even in his thoughts he nearly spits that name out. Where he is is chaos. Uncontrollable chaos... how much he hates him, to possess such power and yet... why won´t he just die.  
No. He won´t ruin these hours of pleasure that are ahead with thinking about this waste of space. He is now on Coruscant City, in the Opera, sitting in his very own booth - it was one of the first things he did with the First Order conquering half of the Core. Having his very own booth at the Opera. A pleasure no one can deny him anymore or shame him for being so fond of this kind of art, he remembers the voice of his father. - the Captain standing behind him, and waiting for the curtain to be lifted. He didn´t even looked up what is going to be played this evening. Even on the ride to Coruscant City he was busy with work. He even hasn´t caught the name of the Primadonna. Well, hopefully it´s going to be the only surprise this evening.

Even the Captain recognises how the General relaxes a tiny bit, leaning back against the backrest, as the lights darkened and the curtain is lifted, revealing a scenery that could have been taken from a Huttese Palace, and the music starts to play.  
With having the honour of the Generals complete trust she is the one to accompany him on those 'night outs'. She doesn´t get what´s so special about this kind of entertainment, but it´s not bad and let´s face it, it could be worse.  
Judged by the high vocal range she guesses it is the Primadonna singing in a slave costume, lamenting her misery that pretty fast changes into curses and wishes of death, downfall, misery and doom coming over her slave keeper. Impressive.  
So thinks the General. A small gesture with his hand and she leans in closer.  
"Who is she," a hushed whisper.  
"Amelia Alandale, Sir," she answers after checking her HUD. "The Primadonna of this house, Sir." She knows this gaze of him. He gets that look in his eyes when he found something he won´t let go off. When he settles for a goal to reach, determined. He even slips slightly forward on his seat.  
"I want a bouquet of Telladan moonflowers send into her wardrobe. These and no others."  
"Just as you command, Sir." She turns around and leaves the booth to order how he commanded without disturbing him. They´ll deliver for sure immediately even at this hour when they´ll hear that the order comes from the General of the First Order. Of course they do. She leaves that part of the Opera house to wait at the delivery entrance for the bouquet. To check its conditions and looks, if it would be to his satisfaction, as it finally arrives. She walks ahead of the, in her eyes, pale faced, skinny delivery boy, making sure it arrives safely at its destination.  
It is true what they say. The Telladan moonflower is the most beautiful flower in the whole Galaxy. Sure, most of the Primadonna´s admirers will give her roses. But not the General. He won´t go with the ordinary. He wants to step out, to be seen, to be recognised. She should know his name and memorize it and this will surely be the case with this bouquet.  
Of course she gets access to every part of this house. She is Captain Phasma, the Generals Captain, the executive hand of the General. It would be ridiculous if she wouldn´t.  
A small T´wilek opens the door to the Lady´s wardrobe.  
"General Hux from the First Order sends his regards to the Primadonna and congratulates her to this splendid evening."  
Surprise and astonishment making the T´wileks eyes growing big. She opens the door wider to let them in, showing the delivery boy to wait and rushing off for a vase to put the flowers in and placing it on the table in the centre of the room. Obviously only there for this purpose.  
She takes a look around. Exactly what she imagined a Primadonnas wardrobe would look like. A dressing table with all kinds of make-up and perfumes, mirrors precisely placed to catch every angle for dressing. Cushioned sofas for guests, Holopics on the walls showing the lady with other singers, actors and members of the high nobility. A rack with costumes, probably for tonight’s show.

“Sir, the bouquet has been placed in the ladies wardrobe,” she says in a low voice as she´s back in the Generals booth, leaning down to him.  
“Perfect,” he whispers absent, eyes locked onto the stage where she has currently a passionate verbal fight with her so called saviour. Without doubt this play is basing on the story of the so called General Organa killing Jabba the Hutt during the Imperial reign. The setting, the costumes, especially the famous hairdos of the General, the story itself. Only more dramatic than it probably had been back then.  
The ladies song of victory after slaying the Hutt was more impressive than the love duet as she was reunited with her lover at the end, but that´s only the Captains personal taste.  
No matter if now part of the Resistance, a Rebell, that she slayed a Hutt is still impressive on both sides. With the chain he put her into – For that she has the Captains respect.

He didn´t stood up as the curtain fell and applauded with yells of admiration. She won´t recognise him anyway. Neither his figure by the light, nor his voice by the noise. He made himself recognisable in a different way. He stayed seated for a whole minute. Saving in his mind what he heard and saw that night. Rightfully she´s the Primadonna. With such a divine voice…  
He jumped from his seat, signing the Captain that they return to his ship. In hyperspace he´ll be on the Finalizer in two hours again. And he´ll take the liberty to look up next time when she´ll stage again. Now that he heard her live he can´t be satisfied with a cheap holovid that won´t do her voice any justice.

She takes a deep breath as the door is closed behind her and she´s alone.  
“Milady.”  
Except with the presence of her assistant.  
“The First Order recognised you.”  
She is pointed to a bouquet resting in a vase in the centre of the table in the middle of the room. One of the most beautiful flowers this Galaxy has to offer. The Tellanadan moonflower. “The First order, you said?” She steps closer to the table, her fingertips touching the petals.  
“These are from General Hux from the First Order. He sends his regards and congratulates you for this splendid evening.”  
“Thank you, Leela,” she says as the wig is taken off of her.  
“Maybe he has a liking to you. They arrived as you still had been in the first act. You never had one from a General Hux before. He probably saw you for the first time and you left a huge impression on him.”  
“Probably.”  
“The future will show.”  
“Thank you,” she repeats as she is helped with the costume. “I want them to be placed in my apartment.”  
“Milady… they´re from a First Orders General.”  
“I don´t care from whom they are. They are beautiful. A bouquet of beautiful flowers won´t change my mind, Leela. And five hundred bouquets won´t do so either.”  
“Of course, just as you wish, Milady,” the small T´wilek girl nodded, casting down her eyes and lifting these again as she is handed one of those flowers.  
“If I really caught the eye of a First Order officer, maybe we can use it for a small advantage,” she smiles.

Only back in his suite of his Finalizer he finds the time to do researches of private nature. Leaning back in his chair as his desk he holds his datapad in one hand and tossing a glass with a delicious liquid around in the other one. He´s not usually drinking alcoholic beverages. His status and rank needs a hundred percent clear mind at all time. But he´s rewarding himself with a small glass when it had been a splendid evening or to calm him down and helping him to sleep when he´s just half an accident away from having a mental breakdown. Tonight it was the first reason. It had been so delicious to listen to the voice of Amelia Alandale that not even this despicable Ren could ruin his evening.  
He takes a small sip from the glass, not taking his eyes off of the datapad. Still reading the bio of the Primadonna, looking up the Holovids and pictures he can find, interviews that were made for Holomagazines. An impressive career, he thinks, therefore that she´s only for two years now in the Corouscant Opera and no word had been heard from her before. It says she was discovered by the director of the opera while he was on vacation. A singing hotel hostess. It sound too much like a fairytale for him.  
But he will think another time about that. Now it´s more urgent for him to see, and most of all, hearing her again. The screen on his datapad jumps to the play time of the Opera. In three days. He needs to find a way to shake off the Supreme Leader and Ren in three days.  
Another sip while he tears his eyes from the screen and taking a look out of the transparitsteel of the viewport to see the blackness and white stars glistening.  
A few seconds later the screen changes again and he opened the reports of the Security Intelligence Agency. A smirk lifts one corner of his lips after a minute of reading. Maybe it´s time to give this forsaken student of the Surpreme Leader a task on his own. That will keep him occupied.


	2. The Great General

As she enters her wardrobe she is greeted by a fresh bouquet of Tellanadan moonflowers. “Already now,“ she asks her assistant who takes her coat.  
“They came an hour ago. They´re from the General, milady.“  
General Hux from the First Order. Of course, a name keeps stuck in one´s mind when one is given such extraordinaire and beautiful flowers. And not affordable to everyone too. “Already now?“  
“A wish of good luck for a splendid show, says the message.“  
“Will he be here tonight?“  
“I asked Tl´ycan from the ticket counter. He said that booth five belongs to a General Armitage Hux and will be occupied for todays show. He also said that this booth hasn´t been occupied for a long time but is rented to said General for two years by now and will be occupied by him for all of your shows for the next month. It seems like you have a new admirer, milady.”  
“It seems so,” she smirks and starts to prepare herself for the evening as she looked at the flowers long enough.  
it was later the evening, a few minutes before the curtain would rise, the guests are called for the first time to take their seats, that Leela hastily enters the wardrobe.  
“Milady! The General is here, he took seat in his booth!” She winks her to follow her to get a glimpse on the one who is responsible for the beautiful bouquets of those moonflowers.  
Already in full attire she ruffles her skirts and accompanied by nods and small greetings she rushed through the corridors to get right behind the stage. Peeking though the curtain of the exit of the stage Leela shows her.  
“There, booth number five. That´s the General.”  
She knits her brows, trying to see all through the dim lights and shadows in these booths. Without doubt he is a member of a military organisation, by how straight and upright he sits. It also looks very much like a uniform what he´s wearing.  
With a smile and a thank you she takes the small opera macrobinoculars from her help. Yes. A uniform, no crinkled, no flaws, a sharp cut and straight ironed. Her gaze wanders higher and she freezes, taken by surprise. With the rank of General she would have expected and old, white bearded, slightly overweighed man. Not such a young and flawless face. The skin pale with the hint of pink, a straight nose, cheekbones one need to be careful to not cut oneself when striking him and a jawline to die for. No wrinkles, neither on his forehead nor around the eyes and lips. Either he is genetically blessed or he never had a laugh in his whole life. The eyes… she guesses green or grey, she can´t tell by the light. But they speak of a smart mind. All of this crowned by strictly brushed back ginger hair. Like the gleaming glow of a dying fire. Only his straight composure hints that he might be older than he looks.  
She really wouldn´t have guessed to see this by the rank of General. Well, if her latest admirer looks like this she can live with it. That he sends her bouquets of Tallanadan moonflowers makes him even charming.  
Before he can recognise that he´s being watched she gives the macrobinoculars back to Leela. “Bring a message to him. Say that I am thankful – no. I am grateful for the bouquet from the great General Hux from the First Order. Say that… I would be honoured to welcome him in my wardrobe after the show if it had been to his pleasure.”  
“Milady…”  
“Do it, Leela. Maybe I can make him to get a bigger liking on me when I greet him personally. Underneath every uniform they are still only men. It would be an advantage I can´t let slip through my fingers.”  
“Of course, milady. I am… only concerned. I mean… he´s directly from the First Order. It´s something different than those posh ones who support them with credits and weapons.”  
“I am aware of it Leela, and that´s why I want you to gather all information you can find about that General.”  
Even back in her wardrobe their talk had already lowered to a hushed whisper.  
“Call them. You know whom. They have for sure datas of the First Orders elite. I need to push the right buttons.”  
“Of course, milady.”  
“Thank you. And now bring the message.”

On her slender feet the young T´wilek rushes through the secret floors only those working in that building know about and two minutes later she slipped through a hidden door on the floor with booth number five.  
In front of said booth stands the same one who brought the message of the General a few days ago. An armour of chrome, shining and unique. She had never ever seen such a tall soldier. Only the head is slightly tilted as she steps closer.  
“I have a message of Lady Alandale for the General.”  
“Wait,” echoes her voice, metallic and robotic through the voice modulator of the helmet. She turns around, vanishing in the booth behind her. “Sir?”  
“Captain.”  
“The help of Lady Alandale waits outside. She has a message from the Lady for you.”  
A sly grin forms on his lips. So, she got the bouquet. “Let her in. I am curious what the Lady has to say.”  
“Yes, Sir.”  
As long as she herself is not singing he doesn´t mind to be disturbed, even when the lights are already dimmed.  
With the wordless approval of entering by the door being simply opened, Leela slips into the booth. “Sir?”  
A gesture with his hand signs her to not go further. His head only slightly turned to the right side, barely looking over his shoulder. “My Captain told me that the great Lady Alandale has a message for me?”  
“Yes, Sir. Milady is grateful and honoured beyond imagination to have received the bouquet of yours. The most beautiful one she had ever been given, and to have the attention of the great General Hux, General of the First Order.”  
Great General, he repeats in his mind with a smirk. He likes that.  
“If the evening was to your satisfaction and pleasure, milady would be honoured to welcome you in her wardrobe when the show is over. Can I tell milady that you accept the invitation?”  
“Yes. She may tell Lady Alandale that I follow her invitation with great joy. Is there anything else she has to deliver?”  
“No, Sir.”  
“She is dismissed.”  
She turns around on her heels and leaves the booth.  
“Sir?”  
“No worries, Phasma. She is an Opera singer, she only played the role of Organa, she won´t be it herself… unlikely that she can sing like that too. I checked her ID, Phasma. She is clean.”  
“When you say so, Sir.”  
He snaps his head at his Captain, brows knitted in fury, his face a mixture of anger and despise. The only one who can talk back to him next to Snoke and he only lets it happen because he is the Surpreme Leader. Ren does so too but he neither allowed it nor does he appreciate it. But with Phasma he had been through some thick situation. His very own father was not the only one she assassinated in his order. She gained his trust and respect, he appreciates her opinion and therefore won´t need to fear ever a court martial for backtalking to him.  
“Yes. I say so, Captain.”  
“Have you checked her helps ID? She´s a tailhead, Sir. They tend to be rebellious. It had been such a kind trying to assassinate the Emperor and Lord Vader, overthrowing the regime, in the beginning of the Empire.”  
“Good, you´ve been attentive in history class,” he snarls sarcastically. “Then check her kriffing ID if it will grant me peace for the rest of the evening,” he hisses in a low voice for the curtain had been already lifted.  
“Yes, Sir.” She turns around to take her leave.  
“As if you wouldn´t have done it anyway,” he mutters under his breath.

“Is everything prepared?”  
“Of course, milady,” answers Leela, taking off her mistress´ headdress and wig in haste. Giving her a hairdo as good as she can with only a few minutes times. Meanwhile Amelia herself undoes the costume, stripping it off and slipping into a gown, not too casual, not too formal. Just right to welcome an admirer in her wardrobe.  
“Have you heard word by now?”  
“Not yet, milady. The usual sources say that he´s from Arkanis and attended the Academy of Arkanis for a few years before the New Republic finally destroyed the last remains of the Empire.  
“No wonder that he´s so pale, when he never saw any sun…”  
“His mother wasn´t the wife of Mr. Hux, he is illegitimate.”  
“Let me guess, Hux senior was a loyal member of the Empire?” Easy to guess when the son attended the Academy of Arkanis. Every offspring of loyalists could be found there, they raised the future elite of the Empire there. “How old is he?”  
“Thirty-two.”  
So young and already General, impressive, she must admit. And no wonder too that such a handsome face is corrupted by the First Order with an imperialist father.  
“Go now, I can handle the rest on my own. Keep trying to contact them for more information. Maybe I´ll have a First Order officer soon dangling from my hook.” With a smirk she closes he door behind her assistant. She shoves the other bouquets, most all different kinds of roses, more into the back of the table. His one should outshine all, feeding the ego a little bit. A last look, wine and treats are prepared. Another last glance into the mirror. She´s satisfied with what she sees. If she wouldn´t, it´s too late to change anyways.  
It knocks against the door.  
One last deep breath. She puts on the loveliest smile she can manage before walking over to the door, opening it and… is faced with the breastplate of a chrome like armour. She has to look up and the owner of the armour needs to look down.  
“Madame.”  
“Uhm… yes? I am sorry, I was expecting…”  
“Captain, there is no need to intimidate Corouscants most beautiful voice. It is also very rude.”  
The voice is smooth, calm, posh with a nuance of arrogance. But that´s probably to be expected by a man who inhabits such a position at such an age. He sounds like someone who knows exactly who he is. Who knows exactly the power he has coming with that position. He sounds like someone whose subordinates don´t dare to talk back to or to say anything at all.  
The Captain steps aside and gives now a free view onto the General.  
A tall figure, quite elegant, even fashionable she would say, in a neat uniform with polished boots and leather gloves, the coat hanging casually around his shoulders.  
“Thank you, Captain,” accompanied by a nod towards said Captain he gets rid of his gloves at the same time. There´s a second of hesitation as he turns his eyes at her.  
She thinks because he sees her without wig, big make-up for the stage, without a costume, not as a role she acts but just as herself.  
“Lady Alandale?”  
“The very same,” she smiles.  
“General Hux, I assume?”  
“The very same.” A smirk breaks the smooth and stoic, stone like façade of his face, two steps more and he slightly bends down.  
She is a bit surprised by how warm his skin feels as he takes her hand into his and, just like a true gentleman, bringing it to his lips to blow a kiss onto it. Now she can see that his eyes are green.  
“I am honoured by your invitation, Lady Alandale.”  
“The honour is all mine that the great General Hux found a liking to my voice.”  
“I can reassure you, it is not only your voice, it is your whole performance, milady.”  
“You´re making me blush, Sir. Therefore, it would be wiser and more comfortable if we continue our talk inside. Your Captain is welcomed too of course,” she ads while stepping aside.  
“Oh, my Captain will be just fine waiting here. Right, Captain?”  
“Yes, Sir.” Phasma takes her place in front of the door after Hux stepped into the wardrobe and the door is closed. She is the guarantee that the General won´t be disturbed unless it is a code red.  
Stuffing his gloves in the pockets of his coat he takes it off and hanging it on a nearby rack.  
Watching him she guesses he would also neatly folding his clothes with taking them off for sex.  
Seeing the moonflowers right away outshining all the other bouquets satisfies him. Indeed, it took him the split of a second to react as he saw her. The hair in gentle curls and with the colours of a burning fire, like the sky with the rising of the sun, as if the heavens would be aflame, but the eyes blue like the cracking ice on Hoth. He was a bit surprised to see that she is more than a head smaller than he is. She seemed to be so tall on stage, probably an illusion caused through wigs and headdresses and her whole acting, making her the dominant part on stage. So different now without costumes, wigs and… all that glamour of an Opera stage.  
“Please, take a seat, Sir.”  
With one smooth move he sits down on a sofa, one arm placed on the armrest, his legs crossed.  
“How about a glass of wine?”  
Against his own code he said yes and watches her preparing two glasses. He observes her closely, her movements, her gestures, the smile on her lips that reaches her eyes. His fingers brushing slender ones as he takes the glass she offers him. “To Lady Alandale,” he raises it with a smile.  
“Your praise is too much, General.”  
A modest smile, a humble blush.  
“Honour to whom it belongs, Lady Alandale. And your performance tonight had been outstanding. Your voice… magnificent!”  
A low laugh. “Thank you, Sir. I feel honoured that I caught the attention of the great General of the First Order. How does it come?” She takes a sip from her glass, eyes not leaving his face.  
“Well, milady, I just happen to be fan of the Opera, the finest art of all. And as I heard the splendid, magnificent and unique voice of the Corouscants Opera primadonna, I needed to show my respect. A small luxury I can enjoy rarely.”  
“I can imagine how busy a man in your position, general probably is.”  
“One needs to work hard to achieve what one wants.”  
“True words, Sir.”  
He lifts his glass again. “To those who achieve their goals through hard work,” he toasts, and she joins in, both taking a sip from the wine.  
“I am curious, milady. You invited me.”  
“I am as curious. I wanted to see the face that belongs to the generous General who sends me the bouquets of these moonflowers. Such wonderful flowers, so beautiful and unique…”  
“Only the most beautiful flowers of the Galaxy are worth it for the most beautiful voice of the Galaxy.”  
“You are too charming, General.”  
“I am only honest.” He is not naïve. She has several admirers and hears more charming words and phrases daily, he thinks, probably one or two proposals are amongst them for sure. She is only humble and modest, she is still an actress, he thinks. He can´t say if the blush is honest or acted. And those admirers don´t limited her to her voice. Though she does look pleasingly for one´s eyes. He wouldn´t call her an outstanding beauty, more than the average, yes, pretty. Light skin, striking hair colour, a small and straight nose, bright eyes… He tears his eyes from her. Her look is a nice match for such a voice.  
“Honesty. A virtue that became too rare these days. Don´t you think, General?”  
“I can´t deny that.”  
“And speaking of honesty, Sir, I was too curious and… my assistant told me that you´re booth will be occupied for all my upcoming shows? I hope you´ll forgive me, Sir, but with those extraordinary bouquets, the curiosity was killing me.”  
“Thankfully it didn´t. It would have been a great loss for the Galaxy. And yes, I couldn´t withstand. I am not sure if your voice should be put under gun restriction for it is clearly a weapon or under the narcotics act because it is addictive like a drug,” he smirks and enjoys it to make her laugh with it.  
“I hope I have an advocate in you, General, in case I will be charged?”  
“Don´t you worry, milady.”  
“Thank you, Sir.” She puts her glass aside, rising from her place and walking over to her dressing table. “And of course, you don´t need to pay for my shows, it would be ridiculous.” She takes her datapad, typing in a few things.  
“Do all your admirers have free access to your shows?”  
“Only the pretty ones,” she smirks and looking over to him, before she types a few more things and putting it finally down. Taking her seat next to him again. “My admirers don´t but my friends do, Sir. I hope I can consider you a friend?”  
“I am honoured, milady.” With a smile he raises his glass once more, a silent toast before drinking.  
“Now, when your ship appears, you´ll be lead to a private area. It belonged once to the Emperor as he was still chancellor, I was told. You will be awaited and lead to your booth through the back of this building. No trouble with ordinary guests.”  
“What for advantages it has, to be your friend, milady.”  
“You are a hardworking man, Sir. At least when you want to enjoy my voice you shouldn´t be troubled with anything. You´ll see, I care deeply for my friends.”  
He doesn´t get rid of the feeling that she maybe hopes to gain advantages and benefits too from this so-called friendship. ´The General of the First Order, a friend of mine` for sure sounds impressive and judged by the Holopics on the walls around this place, of her and prominent figures… Who would blame her? One hand washes the other one, right? And maybe, the future will show, he´ll get through her to those prominent and rich names. The Order wants to, needs to, be financed. A logical excuse to leave the Finalizer, the presence of Ren, the grasp of Snoke. “I am looking forward for… your care of friends, milady.”  
There was a moment of silence, a simple look into each other’s eyes.  
“So,” she breaks the silence, "you are an admirer of the fine arts, General?”  
“Indeed I am. Surprised?”  
“Well, I always thought for men of the military it would be… boring, stupid, ridiculous.” His chuckle sounds likable.  
“Not to all, milady. It is a nice change, a wonderful and beautiful one even, now with seeing the face that belongs to the amazing voice right in front of me.”  
She can´t deny that he is indeed charming.  
“Some may not see it. But there is still military rigour in this art. The arrangements of notes and instruments… The maestro is just like a commander ordering his troops. The dancers move in perfect synchronisation, just like our troops on a march. And your voice, milady, hitting every note on spot just like the best sharp shooter. Everyone here, on and behind the stage, has its role, its task, its duty to fulfil. Like… on the Finalizer which I personally command,” he winks at her. Weather on a war vessel or an opera. Both are filled with, so to speak, many busy working droids. It´s like a chain. If only one part is broken, everything can and will fail.  
“I never saw it like that, Sir,” she replies, “but yes. You are right. Thinking about it… I would be totally lost without my assistant and the dressers for a quick costume change. The technicians for light and sound, the opening and closing of the curtain, the changes of settings on the stage…”  
“See.” With a smirk he takes another sip as a knock on the door lets him pull a face as if he would be utterly disgusted.  
“Sir?”  
It was the hollow, echoing sound of his captain’s voice, muffled by the door.  
“There is an important message from the Finalizer, Sir. You should answer.”  
A sound of frustration and anger leaves his lips and he puts the glass down soundly. With rising he straightens his uniform before, with a hand on his chest and a forced smile on his lips, bowing slightly down at her. “Milady, if you excuse me?”  
“Of course. You are a man of great importance.”  
He turns around on his heels to the door, opening it. “What,” he says through gritted teeth and his anyway cold eyes have reached the temperature of minus 50 degrees.  
“Captain Peavey reports that several Resistance fighters had been spotted circling around the Finalizer. Just far away to be out of reach of its canons. Therefore, that they don´t attack he assumes they´re just a distraction for a different ambush.”  
“Then he just should send TIE-Fighters to eliminate this scum!” Why is he Captain when he can´t even do that on his own?!  
“Also: The Surpreme Leader would like to speak to you and wonders why you are neither on the Finalizer nor answer your com.”  
Kriffing… he clenches his teeth, visible through the tensed jaw. A deep breath. Without losing another word, he turns around towards his host, a smile found its way back onto his face. “Dreadful news reached me, and I am deeply sorry, milady, but I have to leave you immediately in an urgent matter.”  
The second he finished speaking she already rose to her feet and got his coat before he could. Fluent, swift movements he recognises. Despite that she is smaller she´s holding it out to him to slip in. As he does so he feels her hands brushing his shoulders. Catching one of these in his own while turning to face her, she feels once more warm fingers wrapping around hers and soft lips touching the back of her hand.  
“No need to be sorry, Sir. You are an important and busy man. Your shoulders must feel heavy by all the responsibilities they carry. It is I who should be sorry for keeping you from your work.”  
“Don´t be, milady. You are the most beautiful and charming distraction from work of the whole Galaxy.”  
“You are so very charming for a General,” she smiles. “Can I hope to see you again?”  
“It would be heartless and cruel to crush your hopes.” A smirk. “Your luck that I am none of both. Goodnight, Lady Alandale.”  
“Goodnight, General Hux.”  
He already turned around and stops in the doorframe, turning at her again. “Armitage. I guess friends should call each other by their first name.”  
“You are right, Armitage,” she smiles, “then please call me Amelia.”  
He grins and turns his back at her, passing his Captain and with her on his heels he takes his leave.


	3. All for the First Order

He feels the pressure on his throat, keeping his whole neck in an iron grip. Still he keeps his facial expression, his eyes fixed onto the hologram before him, towering over him, something that can be called a face. He breathes very low, that still works, compared to speaking.  
“She knows… many. Arms dealers… politicians… the high society… All admirers of her… People with money. Weapons. Influence. Everything… the Order needs… Maybe the soldiers won´t… but officers will revolt… if they´re not payed, Surpreme Leader.”  
The pressure around his throat vanishes slowly, breathing gets easier again.  
“If we want the rebel scum to perish then we need better weapons, better equipment, better technology, better fighters. Nothing is for free, all has its price. A price that is payable with the connections that are coming for free with the primadonna as a friend. The Force alone won´t neither finish Starkiller Base nor powering it, Surpreme Leader.”  
He knew it. Or: He should have known it. Nothing can be hiding from the Surpreme Leader. No action, no thought. Of course, he knew that he has been absent, that his thought hadn´t been circling around the Order alone for a few moments. On the other hand… he kriffing deserved it. Day in and out he not only has to deal will military affairs of the Order, Resistance scum and… Ren. He also is negotiating with allies and possible allies. Making deals to grand them some advantages if they let the First Order taking over their system and using the planets for resources. You can´t simply blow everyone and everything up when they don´t play by your rules. One needs to have knowledge of the human nature, it needs a feeling for the right moment to get them where you want, to get what you want.  
He is also denied the rank he deserves, guesses to have more caffeine in his veins than blood and barely sleeps five hours in a row. If nothing else than he deserves at least this little selfish pleasure! No harm has ever been done from simply visiting the Opera…  
The booth, the tickets, the bouquets – it had been his very own money. And he can spend it like he wants to. He is rarely spending anything, when does he have time to do so anyways? Sometimes he has the feeling that he is the only one having a clue how a military is to be run. Just another proof in his eyes that the Surpreme Leader is no man of the military, but more a politician.  
This is no droid or clone army. True, they raise their troopers from very early childhood on, training and indoctrinating them. The program his forsaken father started and he himself continued and formed to perfection is a complete success. But not all members of the First Order are. Many officers had been loyal imperials, many are offspring from loyal imperials, just like he. Those know their value and want to be paid.  
Technology of war if not for free either. They need to be faster, sneakier, stronger. No arms dealer in this Galaxy would give away an AT-AT or a million blasters for free. Armory, uniforms, sanitary facilities, food, medbays and medical equipment, repairing facilities… all of this costs credits. And these ignorant fool… No being in this Galaxy can live from this damn Force alone.  
They need allies! Arms dealer who offer the best equipment for reasonable prices, supporters amongst the high society, nobility and politicians, current and former ones. And when he has to charm the celebrated primadonna into his bed to get to know those people, having a friend in common grands mostly a discount, then he´ll do so. All for the First Order.  
Back in his suite, opening his datapad and letting a holovid of her replaying, he is more encouraged than repelled by the idea of charming her for his cause. In his eyes she is more than average of beauty. Her eyes were warm and kind, her smile reached her eyes, generally she seemed to laugh and smile a lot. Seemed to have to deal with big names on a daily basis, not a single bit hinted that she would be nervous in his presence, nor by Phasma as far as he could tell and her high is intimidating enough for most. Her body… as far as her dress gave it away, just perfect for an opera singer with her voice and suiting his own personal taste. All combined with that mesmerizing, unique voice makes her indeed an outstanding beauty.  
He calculates. How many bouquets does he need before jewels, a pair of earrings, a bracelet, would be a proper gift? When would be the right time to change from moonflowers to roses? When to ask her out for a dinner? Or a concert, sitting next to her in his booth, enjoying a show when she has off? All should be well prepared and thought through. He can´t be too hasty, it would make him look like a stalker, nor can he waste too much time, she might lose her interest in him.  
He remembers the small T´wilek, her help, assistant. Is this her sort of charity work to give someone like her a well paid and secure work? He admits that he needs more information. Should he set the Security Intelligence onto her? No. Maybe only in the matter of her finances and contacts, her history. But not obviously. They still had a military drill and would blow themselves right away in an environment like the Opera that´s full of artists.

With a sigh Leela carefully takes the datapad from beneath her mistress’ arm, trying to not wake her up. Until deep into the night she had been reading all information the Resistance could have gathered around General Armitage Hux. She even fell asleep over some reports.  
Now she reads a bit herself and isn´t that sure if it would be wise of her mistress. It is The General and not some ordinary officer. He is for sure a whole different level than all they encountered before. He is a tactical genius for sure. Greed and his fathers name not alone made him a General with almost thirty. Excellent scores in all classes, indeed a tactical genius, stand out sharp shooting skills tell that he that kind of a military leader that not only sits behind a desk or standing on a ships bridge.  
With the fall of the Empire and the rise of the New Republic the loyal imperialists destroyed all what was left of them. They rather burned all down that let it fall into the hands of the enemy. The Academy of Arkanis belonged to it. Still the New Republic was able to restore destroyed datas and files, making an own database about loyal imperials, their offspring, those who are still alive and turned into members of the First Order, their methods on the Academy to raise the future elite of the Empire. To win a war, you need to know your enemy.  
He is obviously someone who is not only in theory dangerous. She gulps once with reading that next to his father, late General Brendol Hux, also Grand Admiral Rae Sloane was his mentor, one who directly worked under Darth Vader. The terror of the Galaxy.  
Illegitimate. It was probably better for the old Hux to have an illegitimate son than none. How young he was as he was giving command of his fathers’ child soldiers, the product of the old Hux’ training program, turning children into complete obedient soldiers. Still almost a child himself…  
“Are you already at the report of that Cardinal? The one where he confirms that the son ordered the assassination of his own father?”  
Leela looks up from the datapad, seeing her mistress sitting awake in her bed. “Everything reads as if he would be a very dangerous man, milady. One shouldn´t play him. One you wouldn´t survive from playing him.”  
“I had to deal with worse, Leelah. He has at least good looks,” she shrugs with her shoulders.  
“He doesn´t read like someone your brothers would only need to threaten and it would be done. The contrary.”  
“He wants something from me, I want something from him. It was clear for both of us. A First Orders General doesn´t give away such moonflowers just to be nice and I don´t invite admirer only to say thank you. Neither of us is dumb, Leela. I know how to handle him. I know you are concerned, but don´t forget my heritage. Raise your sons to good warrior…”  
“And your daughters to better ones.”  
“Not even his Captain could be fast enough before I would have fling him onto his back.”  
“Careful, mistress. Not that he suddenly starts to like it.” She starts to giggle as a pillow hits her with a laughter from the Lady.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the Kudos, I am so surprised that this little peace of self pleasure is liked!  
> I just love Armitage Hux.  
> PS: Brendol was a shitbag.


	4. Coruscants Angel

A short glance is shot to her right side where Armitage is resting in the Co-Pilot seat. Chin dropped onto his chest, arms crossed in front of it and the cap pulled a little deeper than usual. She told him to get into the back, taking a proper nap when he´s not working, she can handle the ship on her own. It could fly on autopilot. But of course, he didn´t listen. His neck will ache again if he keeps that position. That will cause a pain and stiff neck that´ll annoy him and results in him not being able to fully enjoy the evening what will only annoy him even further.  
She already has the coordinates and codes to the obviously very exclusive landing platform of the Opera. They will be awaited by a page who will bring them to the booth. In her spare time, she looked up all employees’ IDs through the Security Intelligence. Just to be sure. Just to be sure she made an extra run on the primadonnas’ ID. Clean, as he said. She dug even deeper. She knows her whole story by now, all her favourites, even size of her shoes and ring size. Maybe this knowledge will be useful one day. Depending on how far Armitage is willed to go.  
She turns her gaze as she hears him sighing.  
He pushes the cap back and rubs his neck as he woke up.  
“You should take a nap in the back, Sir.”  
“It´s alright, Phasma. I am awake.”  
“It would insult the primadonna if you fall asleep during the show.”  
“I won´t fall asleep during the show,” he snaps at her.  
“If you say so…”  
“How much time,” he asks after a moment of silence and collecting himself again.  
“Forthy-two minutes, Sir. It´s still enough time.”  
“I´ve slept enough, thank you.”  
“Four hours and with the short nap just now twenty-three minutes is not enough, Sir. Even my cadets get more sleep.”  
“I am not one of your cadets.”  
“But I can beat you unconscious like one to get a rest.”  
He keeps his stern look onto her, fully aware that he can´t see her face through the helmet but knows very well of the deadpan face she wears right now and that she is deadly serious. He doesn´t even grumbles as he rises from the co-pilot seat and walks into the back of the ship into the small bedroom. He knows she can fling him onto the floor faster than he can draw his blaster. He experienced it. It was shortly before they agreed to work hand in hand. She, killing off the old bastard, and he, giving her full command over the cadets and the training program. He wanted to know if she deserves it and truly is as good as her records told. A good leader knows when to draw back and now is no time to get into a fight with her.

He was not surprised about the exclusive landing platform. He was not surprised the path through the back of the building to get into his booth. He was also not surprised about the bottle of nabooin wine waiting in his booth, a personal greeting by the Lady. Just like she wasn´t surprised about the bouquet of moonflowers awaiting her in her wardrobe. Neither was he surprised as her help delivered an invitation for after the show.  
But he was indeed surprised as he arrived in the corridor and was led to a different door than her wardrobe, even if he would never show it. He hates surprises. Surprises are something he has no control over. He was even more surprised as the door opened to, what seemed to be a party, behind her.  
“My dear General! How wonderful that could find the time to join us.”  
He forgives her that surprise by the sound of her voice and the sight of her smile. “For you I´ll always find time, milady.”  
A modest blush as she receives a kiss on her hand by him. “Come in. I hope you are not disappointed that you´ll have to share me today after the show.”  
“I could never be disappointed in you.” He takes his coat off and gives it to a servant, watching as it was carefully placed onto a rack. “But may I ask what there is to be celebrated?” A glass of champagne is pushed into his hand and she links her arm with his, leading him through the people. Taking a proper look at her he sees she wears a casual, yet proper and charming, dress and still her make -up from the stage. It makes her shine so bright… truly like an angel…  
“The Opera has a new patron.” She continues in a conspiratorially whisper with leaning in. “Niêl Hronin the third. It may be of interest that his father was a loyal imperialist,” she winks. “The New Republic dispossessed the family of all their riches and possessions, no matter who of them took part in the war or not. Only thanks through the First Order shunning the New Republic out of the inner Core, they finally got their hands onto their riches again. No wonder that he keeps a deep grudge against any Resistance, Rebels or Republicans.”  
He smirks with her revealing how cunning she is. But he also makes a mental note to not underestimate her because she is cunning.  
“I told you, I do care for my friends,” she smiles, putting her free hand onto his upper arm.  
“I see. Does that mean that it should be from now two bouquets of Tellanadan moonflowers,” he smirks. Hearing that voice laughing…  
”What do my eyes see, Coruscants Angels!”  
“Milord, it is a pleasure and great honour to have you as patron of this great house.”  
“The pleasure is all mine.” The aristocrat puts a hand onto his chest and bows slightly, seeing her immediately as soon as she steps into his sight. “As your biggest admirer I couldn´t withstand the chance to become a patron of this house. You are truly a blessing to the arts, Lady Alandale.”  
He recognises a tiny chance in her. The smile was modest but too bright, he could feel her tensing at his side with the kiss onto the hand by the other one. Too tiny to be recognised by anyone else, the perfect actress she is, but loud enough to be seen by someone like him. He wouldn´t be where he is now if he didn´t learned skills to read people like others do holomagazines.  
“Please, milady, don´t break my heart by telling me this is your long hidden in secret husband by your side.”  
Her laugh sounds different to the one she gave him.  
“Don´t you worry, milord. I don´t have in mind to marry so soon,” she winks. “If I may introduce you, this is General Armitage Hux from the First Order, a very dear friend of mine.”  
Again she puts her free hand onto his upper arm.  
“From the First Order you say? You have a very exclusive taste in friends, milady.”  
“Then just imagine how exclusive my taste in husbands will be,” they laughed. “Oh, I´ve been called, if you excuse me? I´ll be right back.”  
She lets go of his arm and walking away so elegantly that it seems as if she wouldn´t even touch the ground. Out of the corner of his eyes he sees that the nobles` gaze follows her too.  
“General Hux from the First Order. A pleasure to meet you.”  
“The pleasure is all mine, Sir.” A firm handshake follows. “I am always honoured to meet the sons of the men who gave all, even their own lives, to the Empire.” He sees something lightening up in the other ones’ eyes.  
“My late father, may he rest in peace, would for sure serve the Supreme Leader as loyal as he did the Emperor. It´s consoling the thought that he at least didn’t have to witness how the New Republic crushed what was left behind of the Empire, forcing it´s loyal member to small Outer Rim posts.”  
“A consoling thought indeed. Luckily history repeats itself and the New Republic became, just like the Old one, too arrogant, thinking that only a few exclusive politicians can decide over the fate of millions of their citizens. I´ve heard they dispossessed your family, milord?” He takes a sip from the champagne and – the fish dangles from the hook.  
“They are primitive scum. They scream democracy from the skies and yet who sits in the Senate? No ordinary men, they claim to fight for, no. Lords, Earls, Ladies, Princesses…”  
“They throw around fancy words and sadly the people are falling for these for they don´t know it better. They lure them with promises they can´t keep, feeding them with lies…”  
“Instead of leaving the Outer Rim to the last imperials they continued the war, continued to kill. Suddenly they cared for the Outer Rim. I ask you, General, how many souls died on both Death Stars? Blown up by some Rebel punk.”  
“Too many, Sir. Too many brave souls.”  
“And they call themselves peacemakers.”  
His opposite takes a break in his fury speech and takes a deep breath.  
“But luckily there are men like you, General. The First Order rose out of the ashes of the Empire and started to clean up the mess the New Republic made. Someone who truly brings peace and justice to our Galaxy. I am a great admirer of the First Orders schooling program. The Republic can´t even build a single orphanage but you… you take those poor children under your care, giving them an education, a home, a family and offering them opportunities they would never have under the New Republic. You make it possible that everyone can rise above their state of birth. That´s truly equality, Sir.”  
“I am honoured to hear those words, milord. I personally took care of the program and we constantly try to evolve it, making it the best possible. I feel like a proud father to see when these children improve their grades, how well our system works when we figured out their special skills and talents and how they evolve themselves to the best version of themselves with our special to each skills and talents designed education. Giving those children a future they wouldn´t have under the New Republic.”  
“You know, General… call me a friend of the First Order. A hand reaches into the inside of his robe. “And call me a friend of yours. If I can support the First Order, especially your schooling program, call me.”  
He shakes the hand that is hold out to him and feels the outlines of a business card pressed against the inside of his hand. “In the name of the Surpreme Leader, thank you, Sir. The Surpreme Leader will be glad to hear that.”  
“Children are our future and the New Republic gives them none. To the First Order,” is toasted loud enough for everyone in this room to hear before all are repeating the toast with glasses held up high, taking sips from champagne and wine.  
“You two get along, my Sirs?”  
He turns his head slightly and there she is again, linking her arm with his once more.  
“Lady Alandale, I not only have to thank you for your magnificent performances and the angelic voice but also for introducing me to this fine gentleman.”  
“It was my pleasure, Sir. I just knew that you two would get along just fine. A toast to our new patron!”  
“A toast to Coruscants Angel.”  
She lifts her gaze, catching the smile of the General and returning it, clanking her glass with his before drinking from it.


	5. A gentleman never tells

For the whole next month, up to three days in the week, General Armitage Hux takes his leave from the First Orders Navy Flagship the Finalizer to spend the evenings on Coruscant City, at the Opera. He doesn´t miss a single show of Lady Alandale. Before every one of her shows is a bouquet of Tellanadan moonflowers waiting for her in her wardrobe and after every show he is invited into her wardrobe for a nice chat by a glass of wine or to a soirée amongst the theatre folk. He gets to know more names, more people, friends, admirers, patrons of the Opera or Lady Alandale. All who would also like very much to become friends of the First Order. A smile and a few charming words by the Lady had always been enough to waken their interest in him. Truly a friendship that pays out.  
On this evening she invited him to her wardrobe again but this time for a small dinner.  
For a change it is not a blaster riffle that Captain Phasma carries in her hands but a bouquet of Malreaux roses the General ordered for the Primadonna. Strange to see indeed, though the blaster suits her more, yet he does not doubt that she could kill even with a bouquet of roses.  
With knocking against the door Phasma hands the bouquet over to the General and gladly takes her blaster into her hands again. That feels good and right in her hands… The door slides open, he enters and with the door shutting close his Captain takes her position by the door, like usual.  
Inside he recognises many things at once while shrugging off his coat from his shoulders and is caught by the help. The light is dimmed, soft and warm. The moonflowers had been placed onto her dressing table, the other bouquets of her admirers had been banished completely. On the main table in the centre of the room was a small dinner arranged. Plates, glasses, cutlery, all for two, and several lids with probably the meals beneath it.  
“Milady will be here in a moment, Sir,” he hears the T´wileks voice with taking the flowers from him and putting them into a vase, placing it onto the table so that they are clearly to be seen but not blocking the view of those who will sit at the table. Afterwards she vanishes through another door.  
He doesn´t mind to wait. Not with her. So far it was always worth it to wait for her. Not only that he always took great benefit of her so far. But also, to hear her voice exchanging charming words with only him, hearing that magnificent voice laugh in a lovely sing-sang and the smile that seems like she´s keeping it only for him. She´s an actress, yes, but her appearance in a whole was always pleasing to his eyes and his personal taste. A sight he won´t get to see on the Finalizer. A hissing sound as a door opens, he turns his eyes and is glad for having is facial expression always under control. Is she doing it on purpose? Does she have something in mind? He saw her in casual robes and silky fabrics that are hugging her body only in a flattering way but now… One could see everything and nothing at all. The lace so nifty cut… A smile settles on his lips as she steps closer.  
“Good evening, Armitage.”  
“Good evening, Amelia.” He takes her hand she reaches out to him, bending down and gently pressing a kiss onto it. “Graceful like always.”  
“I can´t disappoint my dear General, can I?”  
“You could never, no matter what. It was a magnificent show, like always.”  
“And have I earned the roses for the show or for the dinner,” she smiles, halfway turning towards the table, her hand still resting in his, throwing a glance to the bouquet of roses.  
“I could get you all the flowers of the Galaxy and yet you would deserve even more.”  
“If I would have only known how charming you men of the military can be, I would have never invited you. Good looking men in a uniform with charm are always dangerous.”  
“Milady, by my honour, I mean no harm.”  
“We will see,” she winks, leading to the table where he draws back the stool for her to sit down.  
Taking his place on the other side of the table he raises his voice again. “But I do admit, I was surprised about that one invitation. A dinner in your wardrobe after the show?”  
The door hisses open again, and he hesitates shortly as an unknown face appears, before taking the napkin. But the unknown face opens the lids of the meals and fills their glasses with wine.  
“Don´t worry, this is Eos.”  
She have caught his glance. Sure, just like he she needs to study people for her work.  
“The daughter of my seamstress. I am glad I could help out with a job and she is doing it just fine.” She pats the hand of the young woman as she places something from each meal onto her plate with a shy smile.  
As she fills also his plate he recognises the trembling of her hands. He looks up as he hears that wonderful voice addressing him again.  
“To answer your question, my dearest friend, to stand for three to four hours on a stage is pretty exhausting and can make you quite hungry,” she winks. “I also thought that the food that is served on a ship can´t be that delicious.”  
“You wanted to do me something good,” he smirks.  
“I told you, I do care for my friends.”

The dinner itself went silent with only a little small talk. She told him all the gossip of Coruscant City, gossip and rumours are tactically important weapons when moving amongst the upper class, and he informs her how the connections he made through her are paying out for the Order. No big deal, no secrets will be blown with it. Only harmless information’s.  
The food itself was delicious indeed. Though he can´t complain in general. The food for the officers is exquisite and does taste well and delicious. Compared to the usual rations of the troopers that´s filled with vitamins, proteins and several other ingredients to give them the daily need of proper nutrition and just should make seated, not caring for the taste. But it´s nice for a change to not take it in his suit or the mass but in a cosy environment and with the sight of Coruscants Primadonna in front of him. To be honest, he started to feel quite comfortable in her wardrobe through the weeks. It became familiar. It´s everything else than his beloved order and control and the complete opposite to his suite on the Finalizer. It´s colourful, cosy, warm, softly whispering of her personality through the colours, Holopictures, decorations and design of the furniture.  
The dressing table is a chaos of make-up, jewellery, flimsi and small tokens. The first few times he had been here he thought about bringing a droid with him to bring order into that chaos, it gave him an unsettled, uneasy feeling. But he got used to it by now. It somehow belongs here, to her, to an artist. He would have thought of it as suspicious when the wardrobe of an artist would look like his office.  
Maybe the huge distance here to Ren helps him too to feel comfortable here. Three hours at the maximum with hyperspeed away from this walking chaos in human form, this man-child, this anger fit with a glow stick (whose idea was it to give that anger issue in person a lightsaber?) that tears his ship apart with every tantrum. From Snoke and his zero understanding of how a military organisation works. From his duties, meetings, reports… A few hours only for himself and his pleasures. By now he also sends Phasma back onto the ship. It´s late in the evening, the Opera must be empty by now, nothing that could be a possible threat.  
Only as the servant refills his glass, dropping the bottle with her shaky hands and knocking over his glass, spilling the red liquid, he almost lost control. Jumping from his seat to prevent that more of the wine is spilled onto his attire he balls his hands into fists but relaxes them right away again. Instead taking the napkin to prevent his uniform from taking further damage. He is not Ren. He doesn´t shout around for no reason, he doesn´t pushes people against walls with that kriffing Force, he is better. He has himself under control. Shouting at the woman would make her only more nervous and she would make a bigger mess.  
Just like his subordinates. Sure, they are nervous when the General patrols behind their backs on the bridge, but it would make it only worse when he shouts at them by the tiniest mistake and then they would turn into big mistakes. Stay calm, no matter what. Stay calm and focused when everything is chaos and you´re the rock in the stormy sea, an authority, proofing that you earned your place. A whispered or low spoken insult or threat has more effect than screaming these. One also gains more respect through a calm behaviour. People may do as you wish when they fear you, but fear leads to hate… by the stars how much he hated and still hates his father. And he ended death on his order. That´s what fear brings you. You´re back-stabbed by your own kind. But respect… Gain respect and people will be loyal to you. People will do everything for you out of their own will.  
“It´s alright, Eos, don´t worry. That can happen, no need to worry. Would you clean up the table, please?” She rose from her chair, placing a hand on the other woman’s shoulder.  
Just like she does it. Calm, kind and reassuring.  
“I am so sorry, please forgive her, it was not her intention.”  
“I am alright. It was luckily only wine,” he smiles and freezes as she takes the napkin out of his hand and continues to dry his attire.  
“I am still sorry. How about you come with me and Leela will clean it properly? You can trust her skills, she also handles perfectly all my costumes and gowns. And I can´t let you leave and return to your fine ship like that. A wine-soaked uniform, what should your subordinates and colleagues think of you?”  
“Maybe that I had a fun night on Coruscant City,” he smirks. She wants him to accompany her into her apartment? “I don´t want to bother you, milady.” After all, and no matter how seductive her offer sounds, he is still a gentleman. At least currently when it comes to her.  
“Oh, you wouldn´t, really! Getting your uniform cleaned is the minimum I can do for you to excuse the mess. Please say yes or do you want to leave me with a bad conscious, unable to sleep the whole night because the terrible thought leaves me awake?”  
Oh, she does it well… the tiny pout of her red lips and the pleading in those blue eyes, looking up to him… She really knows how to twist men around her finger, how to bend them to her will.  
“I would be a terrible gentleman if I would leave you in a state of devastation. It would break my heart. I gladly accept your offer, milady.”  
“Then we should leave right away,” she smiles and twirls around.  
“We take my ship. There´s no need to call a taxi. I promise you won´t be anywhere else safer than on my ship.” By now he also got to know that she owns neither a glider nor a ship but always takes a taxi for her personal security. Some admirers, she told him, know no boundaries and tend to take it too far. Everyday a different taxi, a different driver is safer than the risk someone could manipulate her glider.  
“And your Captain?”  
“I guess she would be excited to see a bit more of Coruscant.” He takes his coat from the rack and holds it out for to slip in.  
Her gaze wanders from said coat to his face, the sly smile on his lips, the glint in his eyes… “I knew a man with charm and uniform would be dangerous, especially when he is such a gentleman like you.”  
“Milady, by my honour, I mean no harm to your moral.”  
“What do you know of my moral,” she grins, stepping closer and letting him help her to dress in his coat. She is not surprised that it is too big and long for her, she could easily get lost in it, but she is surprised that it feels a bit heavy on her shoulders and how comfortable it feels at the same time. Sure, only the best for the First Orders officers. “And you?”  
“Your sight is warming enough.” He could get used to making her laugh and hearing that angelic sound. He witnessed it sounds different with others. When she talks with patrons and other admirers it´s modest. It sounds like planned, not spontaneous, distant.  
He holds the door open and with her arm linked with his they take their leave.  
“Tell me, Armitage… do all officers of the First Order get special courses in charming ladies?”  
“Not all. Only the best.”  
She stops, turning to face him. “And what tells me that your intentions are honest, and you won´t kidnap me onto your precious Finalizer to keep me as your personal singing bird?”  
“My dearest Amelia...” He takes her hand into his, placing a kiss on the soft skin before bending down a little closer to her. “There is no cage in the Galaxy that could keep your wings,” he continues with a low voice. “And a ship is no place for such a star like yours.”  
She goes slightly on her tiptoes, coming closer to him. “You always know what a woman wants to hear, right?”  
“I try my best.” Only centimetres separate them but before he could dare to close the distance, giving in those promising red lips, she draws back with a grin and leads him on through the corridors. Is she teasing him? Does she want to play with him? He doesn´t know if he likes being teased by her or not. Outside on the platform that once belonged to the chancellor, how very fitting for Phasma, he thinks, wearing the glider that once belonged to the chancellor, his ship still there where it was landed. 

She turns her head halfway around as the door hisses open and the General with the Primadonna on his arm enters. His cheeks are flushed, it was more than one glass of wine she assumes. It takes at least three glasses until they are slightly flushed… Her cheeks are reddened too, and she wears his coat… She spots the stains on his attire and isn´t sure if this is it what´s called a fun night out. It´s probably only the beginning, she thinks as she is told to not take the way back to the Finalizer but to stay in Coruscant City and fly to the upper sections, a wealthy district, to a skyscraper, to a landing platform number 345. Her apartment.  
“Of course, Sir,” she just nods and turns her full attention onto the control panels, starting the engines and closing the ramp and door as another door is closed with a hissing sound, separating the cockpit from the private section of that ship. It indeed seems to be a promising night for the General.

“Am I not committing a felony by wearing militaria insignia,” she giggles lowly and nods to the First Order emblem on the left arm of the coat.  
“Not when I say so.” He leads her to a small sitting area.  
“And what do you say?” She leans back, her eyes following him sitting down next to her.  
“That this coat suits you.”  
“My dear General… are you implying that I should wear a uniform...” She slips closer to him, leaning a bit in with a hand put onto his chest. “Or do you want to recruit me?”  
“Why don´t you try find it out?”  
“I am not sure if a uniform would suit me that well.”  
“Oh…” Only with the fingertips he shoves the coat from her shoulders, redrawing the pattern of the lace on her shoulder. “I am sure… with the right cut it would fit you just perfectly… and there is nothing screaming more power than a lady like you in a well-fitting, sharp cut uniform.”  
“You seem to speak of experience.”  
“A gentleman never tells.” But the crooked smile of his tells that he is not always a gentleman and he has secrets he indeed would never tell.  
For a moment they are simply looking into each other’s eyes. Pale green meeting bright blue. Both knowing what they want and how to get it. No matter what it takes. He is the first to break the contact of their eyes shortly, his gaze slipping down to her lips. He slowly breathes out. She slowly breathes in. And in the next moment their lips crush together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos and bookmarks!  
> I am sorry that this chapter is not as intimate as promised but the next one will be af, truly promised.
> 
> Tellanadan moonflowers - are indeed a sort of flower in the sw universe. They are not specifically described but called as the most beautiful flowers to exist.  
> Malreaux rose - is a sort of flower too in the legend verse and origin on the planet Vjun. They are of such a deep red that they appear to be black or violet.
> 
> From Chapter 3:  
> Raise your sons to good warriors and your daughters to better ones - is a Mandalorian saying. A small hint to Amelias background *wink*
> 
> "The report of that Cardinal" - Captain Cardinal is a former First Order member, significant for his red armour, who was responsible to train the ´younglings` - Read up about him and him leaving the Order in the "Phasma" novel. 
> 
> In general:  
> The story is settled around 2 years before TFA, by the time of TFA Hux is about 34 years old. The date of birth is unclear (0ABY / 0BBY)
> 
> Arkanis - Academy of Arkanis. Arkanis is said to be very rainy and during the Empire at the Academy of Arkanis was the future of the Empire raised, before the downfall of the Empire. Brendol Hux (our beloved Generals father) trained his child soldiers there and started with his special program to train the future troopers which Armitage later continued and constantly perfected it.
> 
> Phasma indeed was ordered by Armitage to assassinate the late General Hux.  
> The encyclopdia of TLJ tells us that he was not the only one she assassinated on Armitage`s order.  
> (BROTP 5 ever)
> 
> Phasmas armour is made out of the remainings of Palpatines former glider.


	6. Stand at attention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated NC-17 for sex.

High in the upper levels of the city the ride took only a few minutes until the ship lands on the platform of apartment number 345. Captain Phasma witnesses how the General and the Primadonna leaving the private section of the ship. The coat hangs loosely around her shoulders as they half walk, half stumble, halfway dragging and urging each other out of it. Barely leaving hands and lips from each other. She leans back as they leave the ship and entering her apartment. It urges her, itching in her fingers, to run a security check on that apartment, but she´ll have to wait. The Ladies’ ID was clean and so will be hopefully her apartment and the only danger the General will have to face is the edge of a furniture in the dark. 

She doesn´t mind his lips on hers at all. She doesn´t mind them on her neck. She doesn´t mind his hands on her waist or hips, never going higher or deeper the last minutes, truly a gentleman. Gladly she takes him with her into her apartment. Not only to seduce him for the cause, it would be the perfect opportunity for Leela to bug his clothes. But he´s also charming, good looking, even dashing in that uniform, a good kisser… She can at least gain a little bit pleasure from it, right? There is no rule saying the opposite. She sees it as a small reward for her efforts. Her thoughts are trailing off with his lips gliding to her neck. Small kisses, sucking in the skin between his lips and nibbling at it, teasing her while she lets the coat carelessly dropping to the floor. His hands still only stroking from her waist to her hip and back. She sighs before taking a deep breath. Luckily, she knows the way to her bedroom even in total darkness. She gains a bit of self-control again and her hands unbuckling his belt to join his coat on the floor. Her fingers undoing his uniform coat, curious to see what´s beneath it. And she can´t wait to make a mess out of his hair, to dishevel the always neatly hairdo.  
He wanted to kiss her lips for days. Wanted to taste those lips and bringing her to sing in his very own way. Secretly he imagined how his name might sound when her divine voice sighs or even moans it. Late at night, off duty and alone in his suite showering, how those sweet lips might feel around him in a lovely O-shape and that magnificent voice pleading and begging him, to see that cute face lost in lust…  
He learned in the last weeks how smart and cunning she is, that she is no silly, little singing bird, that she is not to underestimate with her skills to move perfectly amongst the upper class. And yet he did. He didn´t expect such a dress, for sure only designed with the pure intention to seduce men. The wine did the rest. Her lips taste and feel better than he imagined, her body feels good in his hands… Only that she can shove the uniform coat down his shoulders and arms he takes his hands from her. He doesn´t care where it might land. He grabs the hem of the shirt he wears beneath, pulling it over his head, throwing it aside.  
She drags him with her, leaving a trail of his clothes on their way. She was wrong with her first impression of him. He doesn´t fold his clothes neatly before sex. She kisses down to his chin, follows the trail of his jaw line. What for a perfect jaw line he has, it goes through her mind, perfect, straight, striking. She slips out of her shoes and is immediately a few inches smaller. He doesn´t mind and neither does he mind her hands roaming over his bare arms and chest. He felt damn good beneath her fingers. For sure it was a pleasure for every woman to touch his bare body. Delicate fingers, soft skin… One hand glides from her waist to her back and higher, tormenting slowly opening the zipper of her dress and shoving the fabric down her arms, pressing himself more against her small body. Slowly she puts her arms around his neck, another sigh escapes her as she opens her mouth, stroking with her tongue over his lips. With a smirk he´s welcoming her tongue, tempting hers with his own, playing with it, explores her mouth. The hand on her cheek wanders into her hair, massaging the back of her head, grabbing the soft silky flood of her hair.  
She can´t help herself than to sigh. He kisses so damn good, his lips are passionately, his tongue swift, his hands on her skin feel wonderful. His fingers are demanding in her hair, curious on her skin. She can´t resist and grabs with one hand finally into his hair, gliding with her fingers through it, pulling at it softly and eliciting a moan from him. Oh, a weak spot, she thinks despite that the low moan with his velvet voice brings her knees to shake and sends a hot wave trough her, a tense, tingling sensation that makes her impatient and hungry for more and setting herself the personal goal to make him lose his control. She opens her eyes, looking in confusion at him as he breaks their kiss, shoving her a few inches apart just as she´s opening his pants.  
The cheeks flushed, lips parted and his breath panting he looks down onto her. The amazing blue glassy, her cheeks in a deep red… “I have one request.”  
She stiffens slightly, putting her head a bit to one side and looking in question at him, hoping his request doesn´t contain a weird kink. Just simple sex for the first time with someone is pretty nice to get to know the opposites body, she thinks. The kinks can come later.  
“Only with protection.” He is no fool, he is not stupid, he is not his father. He won´t do the same mistakes he did and being responsible for a bastard of his running around this Galaxy.  
A small light-hearted laugh leaves her lips. Just that. It was just that. She glides with her index finger playfully over his chest. “Oh, my General… that should be the last problem…” She presses a kiss onto his neck, right beneath his Adam’s apple, licking the spot, sucking the skin between her lips. “I´m on permanent contraception,” she whispers. Her fingers wandering deeper, enjoying tracing along the muscles that are outlining against his warm skin. Reaching the waistband of his pants her cheeky fingers sneak past it and gasps with feeling him rock hard, feeling his hands around her arms grasping her tighter, pulling her closer again with a suppressed sound of lust.  
“But you´re reasonable and right… I just vanish shortly and when I come back…” She lets go of him, stepping back. “I want you to stand at attention, my General,” she grins mischievously, ruffling the hem of her dress, turning around. With the hand on the doorframe she throws a glance over her shoulder at him, still that smile on her lips, before she vanishes in what he assumes to be the refresher.  
The hair a small mess, the dress hanging loosely down her arms, lust and desire making her eyes glassy and the blush on her cheeks with that smile… He bends down to get rid of his boots hastily. In those moments he hates those boots and would like to shoot the one who is responsible for the design of their uniforms. Yes, they are practically, usually, but in those moments, they take just too much time.  
Everything else of clothes on his body follows his boots and lands carelessly on the floor. He couldn´t care less for these in this moment. Sure, it´s still sort of professional from his side. Seducing her gives him the advantage of deepening the bond of her to him, to make her somehow depending on him, even when it´s only sex. And if the worst case might happen, he still has something he can hold against her. He is the one with power, who could easily erase all connections to her and making her disappear without a trace.  
It just makes it easier, pleasurable even, that she pleases all his senses. Yet he isn´t sure in that moment who is seducing who as she stands in the doorframe to the refresher. The dress is gone, so is her underwear (he assumes she was wearing one, he didn´t give much attention and was distracted somehow) and only wearing that wicked smile from just a moment ago, one hand hiding something behind her back. One corner of his lips lifts. Even in the darkness of her bedroom he can see her eyes going up and down on him, her bare chest rising with a deep breath. Which man in this Galaxy wouldn´t get a boost in his ego by a gaze of such a beauty. He knows he´s not hideous, he knows that he is… well-hung. But it´s a little bit different when the owner of the voice he, yes, he can say it, admirers thinks that too.  
Slowly she steps towards him. His hands itching to touch her, to place his hands onto her body and simply pulling her closer, urging her onto the bed and himself between her legs.  
“I see… the great General not only gives order but can also follow these,” she grins. Close enough she puts a hand into his neck and pulling him down, pressing herself against his body and feels his hands on her hips at the same time, holding her close.  
“A great leader knows when to lead and when to follow,” he whispers in a hoarse voice, grinning with her small giggle, his lips only inches apart from hers.  
“I have no doubts in you, General.”  
He shouldn´t have trusted her grin. A gasp leaves his lips, he needs to close his eyes and leaning his forehead against her temple, moaning at her ear as he feels now what she was hiding. As he feels her hand at his erection, stroking the protection he wanted over it.  
A shudder of lust rushes through her with his voice moaning so close, increasing her desire. She drags him with her onto the bed, sliding to the head of it and lying back, enjoying the sight of him crawling towards her. She welcomes him as he comes over her, right away putting his hand into her neck and kissing her passionately.  
He’s wandering deeper with his lips, kissing her neck, licking over her collarbone and softly nibbling at her skin, kissing down to her breast. She moans and arches her back and her fingers tucking at his hair as he takes a rosy bud between his lips. He’s sucking it between his lips, playing with his teeth at it and licks over it. He bends more over her, pushing her legs apart with his knee to get comfortable between them. He sighs at the heat he can feel against his loin and sides, the hot skin between her legs and the one of her inner thighs. Soft, heated flesh… it had been quite some time since he felt such. With one hand he cups her other breast, kneading it, stroking it, encircling her bud with his thumb.  
The way his fingers are trailing down her breasts and her belly, his hand gliding firm and softly over her thigh, placing it a bit higher around his waist and kneading the juicy flesh. She starts to shift beneath him, moving uneasy and impatient, arching against his body. Her naked skin onto his, his weight upon her, it feels so good. A well-known heat rises within her, the little knot that starts to tighten and settles down between her legs, right there where she can feel his hardness. And feeling his hard flesh increases her excitement that grows into need and want. She sighs in need, mewls like a cat in heat and rubs herself against him. She wants him so much right now…  
He glides with his hand between them, between her legs. A little sigh leaves his lips as he strokes the soft curls, feeling the heated flesh of her. A groan follows as he dips one finger into her, feeling how ready she is, how wet she is for him. A wonderful rush of lust goes through him as he can feel her want, as he can hear her little, sweet whining.  
She moves against his hand, rubbing herself against him to get as much friction as possible, to satisfy her need a bit.  
He takes away his hand, putting it onto her waist and lifting his head. He wants to look at her, watching her face, every little movement of it when he´ll pushes into her.  
“Look at me…” Just a hoarse whisper at her ear between two panting breaths. His hand cups her chin, keeping her head in place and forcing her to look at him. She shivers and shudders as she looks into his eyes, the shudder goes down straight between her legs. The hair out of its place, a strand of it hanging over his forehead, the green of his eyes glassy and lips half open. How unfair how incredible sexy…  
The thumb strokes over her bottom lip, his eyes following it before he presses his lips onto hers, silencing the moan that is about to slip his lips, the hand resting on her cheek and moving slowly to her neck. He admits, he fell a bit for her voice, already the first time he heard it. He´s falling deeper now with hearing that voice sighing and moaning for him through his kisses, through moving his knee between her thighs and his hands on the delicious flesh of hers. Feeling how warm and soft her body feels beneath him… How good it feels…  
She closes her eyes, putting her head in her neck as he enters her, as he fills her with his whole length. She´s panting and moaning. He feels so good, his hot breath on her skin… She´s shivering, trembling with lust. One hand is grabbing his hair, fingernails digging in his back as he starts to move, biting softly into her shoulder, enjoying the wet heat between her legs. With every thrust she moves with him, moves against him, meets his hips every time, shuddering with every thrust of him. She pants, swallows once as he softly pulls back her head by grabbing her hair, as he presses his lips onto her neck. She closes her eyes, shudders as she can feel his teeth and tongue, his thrusts and his fingers caressing her little sensitive bud. She moans in delight as his fingers teasing her, feeling his body pressed against hers, as he hits that special little spot within her again and again. Another sound of lust as he fastens his pace, as he gets harder in his thrusts… It feels so good… why does he feels so good… She forgets everything around her. She even forgets in this moment that he´s from the First Order.  
He growls against her neck, biting with a groan into the soft skin, sucking at it just to hear more of her sweet sounds, hearing her lovely pleas. This divine voice… She sounds so lovely when she pleas… begging him to take her harder, faster and deeper. She makes his clear mind disappearing and replacing it with a foggy lustful haze. Gladly he obeys and giving her everything she wants and needs. He can hear how the blood rushes through his veins, feels how the heat increases within him, how the tight throbbing in his loins tenses more and more.  
It’s good to feel him this hard and deep, his lustful sounds, and his teeth marking her just like she marks him with her fingers. With every thrust she tightens around him, all her muscles are shuddering, every nerve is tensed. Constantly he hits that lustful sport within her, making her mind go weak. By all the stars why is this man just satisfying all her needs… His slender hand works on her sensitive bud, stroking it lovingly, caressing it, pressing and pinching it softly while he groans her name…  
Huffing breaths, the heart racing, pulse rushing… She´s holding her legs firmly around him, pressing her thighs into his side and moving along with him, her hips meeting his…  
“Beg for it, Amelia… let me hear it…”  
His husky voice at her ear, his panting breath sends a shudder down her spine and between her legs. But that he pleas her to beg him… “Armitage… please… I’m begging you…”  
He growls as she whimpers his name and begs him. He would give everything to hear that sound forever. His thrusts become harder, her lustful whimpers are telling him that it’s good, that it’s right. He can feel her trembling beneath him, every little shudder and every little twitch of her muscles. The heat of her body, they both covering in sweat, the sweet voice drenched in lust, whimpering and crying out her pleasure. Just simple sex, only lust and pleasure...


	7. Truly a gentleman

She wakes up because, she assumes, she feels incredibly warm. She opens her eyes, shutting them again and after blinking a few times she could see clearly. It´s still dark in the room, must be still night or terribly early in the morning. But with opening her eyes she sees also the source of feeling so warm. Lying half on her right side, her legs tangled with another pair of legs, an arm around her middle that´s not hers, a hand resting on her arm that´s put around he belly of another one… A smirk spreads over her face with lifting her gaze and seeing the face that belongs to the chest she was looking at. Still asleep, still lying with her, hasn´t sneaked off while she was asleep. Despite a still tensed expression on the face, is someone like him ever relaxing anyway, she admits that he looks… delicious, sexy even with the dishevelled hair that hangs into his face. It was her personal goal and she achieved it. She is a little bit proud of herself.  
Looking around she sees his uniform put on a tailor´s dummy and placed into a corner of her bedroom. Washed and ironed and… bugged, she hopes, when Leela could managed it. No matter how good the night was, how amazing the sex, how incredible he was and no matter how much pleasure he gave her that still tingles low in her belly when she thinks of it, he is still the General from the First Order and a chance she can´t let pass.  
She turns her gaze back to him and watching him for a moment. Nothing´s harsh on his face now, nothing´s tried to keep under control, no smile, no gaze is well calculated. It seems… as if only Armitage Hux sleeps now next to her, the General lost somewhere on the way from his ship to her bedroom. To stroke the hair out of his face is so very tempting right now but at the same time she doesn´t want to wake him. She doesn´t know how much he sleeps but it can´t be much. He has his usual duties of course but for at the maximum three days a week he comes afterwards to Coruscant City to listen to her voice, to see her on stage. It takes around two hours per hyperspeed, that much he told her, from the main ship to Coruscant. Three, sometimes four hours of a show and afterwards two to fives hours in her company. Depending on the occasion. And of course, two hours to return to – how was he calling it? – The glory of the First Order, the Finalizer. One doesn´t need to be a genius in math to calculate that there´s only little time left in the life of General Hux. She will ask the Captain when she has the chance. Should he sleep, she decided. It can only help their cause. When the General sleeps and isn´t awake. She puts her head back and closes her eyes, waiting for sleep coming over her again.

She wakes up again with a shifting and moving next to her. This time as she opens her eyes she sees him sitting on the edge of the bed, his back towards her. He didn´t sneaked away. He didn´t collected his things and left while she was asleep…  
He goes with one hand through his hair, fingers combing it back, looking onto, she guesses, a datapad he took out of his uniform.  
“Good morning.”  
He looks over his shoulder, seeing her awake and stretching like a cat. A smirk lifts one corner of his lips. “Good morning. I assume you slept well?”  
“Very well indeed,” she replies with a dreamy smile, recognising his gaze wandering over her. “How about you?”  
“With an angel resting in my arms how could I have slept different than amazing?”  
She laughs lowly. “Even before breakfast and a shower ready for compliments. Will you ever get tired of these?”  
“Keep on moaning my name and the answer is no.”  
She sits up, the blanket slipping off her and sliding closer to him. The screen of the datapad is turned plain black as she puts her arms around him, pressing herself against his back and her lips onto his jawline. “Even before breakfast already at work?”  
“We´re the First Order. Compared to the New Republic we never sleep.”  
His skin is still warm from her own body heat and the blanket, the faint scent of his aftershave lingers on him mixed with the one of night, sleep, the washing soap of her bedclothes and simply sex.  
“The question is rather,” he continues with her hands sneaking to his chest, wandering deeper and her lips tasting the skin of his neck, “will you ever get tired?” Her laugh is as bright and clear and melodic as the song of a corellian nightingale.  
“Does it not boost your ego? Your manly pride? Me lusting and craving after you,” she murmurs.  
“It was just a question, not a complain.”  
Looking at him she thinks of the half smile on his lips as dangerous. The smile of a scoundrel. Crooked, sly, cocksure, full of so much self confidence that it´s on the edge of arrogance, full of mischief and utterly naughtiness. The smile of a predator.  
He puts the datapad aside and turns more towards her, wrapping both arms around her and pulls her onto his lap. With her knees at his hip he strokes over her thighs with relish, kneading the flesh softly. “Your maid did an excellent job.” His gaze wanders to his uniform.  
“I told you she would,” she smiles.  
“And what else are you telling me?” His eyes drifting back to her.  
She lays her arms around his neck, stroking through his hair with her fingers, smiling as he leans into her touch. “That I´ve never done it in the shower.”  
His smile widens. “That can be changed. What would I be for a gentleman if I would ignore a Ladies request?”  
“None at all but an immoral republican Senator, I guess?”  
He laughs lowly.  
“How lucky I am that you´re instead a fine General of the First Order, knowing very well how to treat a Lady properly.”  
“Always make her cum first,” he breathes and presses a kiss onto her cheek, his lips briefly touching her skin while moving to her neck.  
“Truly a gentleman,” she sighs, was he sticking to it twice in the past night. She holds onto him, legs wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck as he rises, pressing her against himself and taking the way to the refresher. 

“What about your Captain?” She nods towards his ship on the landing platform. It´s still where it´s landed, assuming his Captain hasn´t left it through the whole night.  
“She´ll be fine, don´t worry.” In the living area he sits down opposite of her at the dining table where a rich breakfast had been prepared. Now seated their lust it´s about time to still their need for nutrition and gaining a bit of strength back. He´ll need to eat properly before meeting her in the future. He got a taste of her hunger and wants to make sure that he can seat it. Only when he can satisfy her she´ll keep him around. In these two months he gained a lot already but it´s still not enough to finance the Order on a long term and to realize the plans on their fleet he has in mind. Technology is expansive. It´s the plain truth. And on a personal note – he enjoyed it. She felt good, beneath him, in his hands, on top, at his side… He flexes his shoulders a bit, knowing of the marks he´ll carry on his back for a few days and smiles. Her voice sounded so much better soaked in lust, and the melody of his name coming off her lips in a moan and sigh was sweeter than any candy in the Galaxy. Not to mention the relief he gained.  
“Your maid did this? It´s delicious,” he comments the breakfast.  
“Leela is truly multitalented,” she smiles and taking her assistants hand as she fills her glass with a juice. “And I am glad to have her and won´t ever exchange her for anyone else.”  
“I am just doing my job, mistress,” the young one smiles.  
She turns her gaze back onto him, his onto his datapad, reading and wiping the screen from time to time. “Are you ever off duty?”  
He looks up, immediately putting the datapad aside. “I am sorry, that was rude and uncouth of me. I apologize.” With the hint of a smile he places a hand onto his chest.  
“I understand, you are a very important and busy man. The weight of the First Order must lie heavy on your shoulders. Maybe I should apologize for keeping you so long from your work.”  
“There couldn´t be any other why I would like more to be kept from work with than from you and making you sing.”  
There is that half smile again. The dangerous one. “You know, I need to sing daily to stay this good.”  
A low laugh. “Sadly, my schedule won´t allow me to help you daily to practise.”  
“Think of me when you´re stuck in boring meetings and briefings.”  
“No way. I fear I won´t be able to concentrate at all when I think of you… your voice… your hands…”  
“Then I´ll think of you. My schedule isn´t as important as yours.”  
“Tell me of it anyway.”  
“Two Holopic shootings, Amelia Alandale is the new face of M´rads Talaku’s summer collection.”  
“Should I know that name?”  
She laughs shortly. “No. He doesn´t design uniforms. Furthermore, I have an interview in two days and whatever my agent settled for me.”  
As they were finished with the breakfast she asked Leela for a sheet of flimsy, scribbling something onto it and tucking it in the inner pocket of his coat as he put it on.  
“The number of my com and the code to my apartment,” she smiles, a hand resting on his chest with the question in his eyes.  
“One night and you give me the code to your apartment?”  
“I see us as… friends with benefits,” she whispers. Her smile playful.  
“Not lovers,” he grins with a raised brow.  
“If you want to rise in your rank you´ll have to love me a bit more often.”  
A short chuckle. “It will be a pleasure.” He bends slightly down, his left hand placed under her chin, the right one holding onto her waist.  
Quickly the kiss grew in passion before they break apart again and a quick kiss she presses onto the corner of his lips, smiling up to him.  
Shortly he´s startled by that tiny, innocent gesture of hers, that was… just simply honest. He catches himself again, his thumb stroking over her cheek. “I´ll be back again to your next show, promise.”  
“If you ordered yourself to see all of my shows, then maybe I should do more?”  
“My dear… I still need to work.” With a half-smile he takes her hand into hiss, blowing a kiss onto her knuckles before he turns around and stepping onto the ramp of his ship.  
“Good morning, Sir.”  
“Good morning, Captain. Any important news?”  
“None of any urgency, Sir.”  
“Good,” he nods, his hands clasps behind his back like usual. “We return to the Finalizer, Captain.”  
“On the way, Sir.”  
She concentrates on the control panel and lifting off, bringing the board computer to life and choosing the coordinates to the Finalizer as the General vanishes at the same time into the private area and shutting the door.

“Could you do it?”  
“I could sew one device into the lining of his coat, mistress.”  
“You did good, Leela. It is a start. I doubt they search the General for any devices when he returns.”  
“And if they´ll do?”  
“They won´t. He is the General after all. They won´t know what they should looking for and even in the laundry, these are simple droids and machines for laundry only. They won´t be programmed in looking for listening devices.”  
“He won´t wear the coat all the time.”  
“Anything they could catch would be a little something. When we´re lucky they´ll get their proof for the Senate with his own words that they build indeed a war machinery.”  
She looks after the ship fast fading into the sky and turns her back to the sight as it is no more to be seen.


	8. Always what you want

A few days have passed, and she was actually surprised as he messaged her over the com on the very same day he left. The thought to have him dangling from her hook amuses her, yet she isn´t naïve enough to think that the beast lost its claws and teeth. Even a love-struck beast can bite. So far, no Stromtroopers knocked against her door to arrest her for espionage and high treason so she guesses it is safe to assume that the listening device hasn´t been found yet. Leela did an excellent job.  
They haven’t heard word if it even works, if they could filter any information. Sure, he talks to her about the ship he commands, his ship, names The Finalizer. Calling it the First Orders pride and glory, a modern wonder of design and technology but he never said and never let slip what for a class this ship is. Is it a Star Destroyer? Another Death Star? A Starfighter, Podracer or just a holiday cruiser? He never leaked that information to her.   
Maybe with the device they can catch it, having a real proof for the Senate of the New Republic that the First order builds indeed vessels of war in a hidden, unknown region of the Galaxy in secret, calling the New Republic out to take actions against the First Order. Seeing them as the threat to democracy, freedom and the New Republic, seeing them as what they are and not pushing them aside as a bunch of frustrated imperial loyalist, still not over the loss of the war, indoctrinating their children with the way of the Empire, burden them to continue their own personal war with the Republic.   
Armitage is one of those children too, she knows. Indoctrinated by his imperialist father with poisonous thoughts of the Empire. How could he have ever grown into something different than the General he is now? When you´re only surrounded by loyal imperialists. Loyal to the Emperor until the end, even after his death. Even when the Empire was no more.  
She read the Cardinal report repeatedly, all the files and datas concerning Armitage Hux that could be restored with so many others from the remaining of the Academy of Arkanis and the Empire´s archives. She knows he´s born out of wedlock, literally the bastard son of the late General Hux. Not only inheriting the rank and place of his father but also the responsibility for the training and recruiting program of the First Order to beat children into complete obedience.  
Yes, Cardinal admits in his interrogation that the First Order does indeed own vessels of war, that they are more or less kidnapping children, orphans, from all the planets, he could tell them all about it. He was one of those orphans once too, he was the head of the training, He new every number, every face of those kids they formed into soldiers, together with his experience they perfected the simulations and the training.  
But it was not enough for the New Republic.  
Who says that he doesn´t make this all up because he wants to take a personal revenge on the First Order. On those who stole him from his home, who lied and betrayed him and left him for dead? Giving them only what they want to hear to gain the best conditions and deal as a deserter, a traitor?  
They need proves that can´t be put in questions. They need the head of the Order or a high-ranking member admitting it.  
she knows, thanks to the report, that Armitage also ordered the murder of his father. Ordering his Captain to do so and leaving no traces that lead back to him.  
She needs to talk to the former trooper. His view on him, how he experienced him, the military side of Armitage Hux, the General. If she wants to keep him close and using him for their cause she needs to know the whole character of him, needs to know the right buttons to push.   
“Leela?”  
“Yes, milady?”  
“Message…” What have been their code words? Better to speak in code words in case she´s she one that´s been listening to. Better safe than sorry, “Hot Stuff, I need to talk to Emergency Break in the matter of the Bastard.”  
“Yes, milady.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, arms crossed over his chest and keeping his eyes shut. Exhaling a deep sigh. He´s going to kill him. He´ll shoot him, emptying the whole energy cell of his blaster into him. The day will come. One day…  
“Sir?”  
He collects himself again, clasping his hands behind his back and looking up. Seeing his Lieutenant intimidate a turtle by trying to pull his head between his shoulders as far as he can, anxious, afraid of an outburst and paying for the damage someone else did.   
“Send cleaning and repairing droids, Lieutenant,” he speaks calmly.  
“They are already at work, Sir.”  
“Good,” he nods, “Quick thinking of you, Lieutenant Mitaka. You´re dismissed.”  
What is the cause in screaming and yelling at his subordinates, it makes them only more nervous and causing in a bigger mess. Anxious subordinates are for no good.  
The boots make a clicking sound as the Lieutenant pushes his heels together, straighten his posture and saluting before leaving.  
“How should we ever finish the Base and the Supermacy when all the credits are wasted for repairing the damage this punk is doing to my ship,” he murmurs to himself. This walking anger fit… Again, one of the elevators. Wasn´t it fast enough? Was it mocking him? Was it mentioning his mother, his father, his uncle? Who thought it would be a good idea to give that savage a glow stick? Of course, it was a Jedi. They tend to make decisions that are leading to their own downfall.  
His datapad gives a sound from it, letting him know that he has an incoming message. Fingers crossed that it is not Snoke, please don´t let it be Snoke…  
He takes the datapad into his hands, unlocking it and... a tiny smile plays around his lips with seeing her name on the screen. Sending him the holopics of the fashion shootings she had told him about. He sits down, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs. A sip from his thermo cup and now he can really enjoy it. The right thing he needs now after the disaster that had been done again.   
He has no idea of fashion, he always thought their uniforms are fashionable, sharp cuts, and the material makes everyone looking good in these, the colour not black but a dark grey. Even the white of the Admirals, completely falling out of line by the usual black of the technicians and dark grey for the officers, was suiting and good looking. But none of them wore it as perfect as Sloane… He turns his thoughts onto the pictures again. No uniforms but light, floating fabrics, deep cuts for legs and the neckline, floral patterns, fashion for a summer in the high levels of Coruscant City. They seem impractical in his eyes for a daily routine, but they look good on her. He likes looking at her. Not only listening to her voice but also looking at her. And more, feeling her. A little light in his daily fight against all idiocy and incompetence.  
He checks his schedule. He would leave in a few hours anyway, she has a show tonight. But… Nothing in his schedule that can´t be delayed until tomorrow, he has the code to her apartment, he could, theoretically, pay her a visit before she needs to leave for the opera, thanks through the different time zone on Coruscant. 

“I was told you wanted to talk with me in person.”  
Through the blue of the hologram she can´t see any other colours than all different shades of blue but his face seems tanned, the hair cut short and dark and bright eyes.   
“Lieutenant Cardinal, I assume?”  
“Yes, milady.”  
“I´ve read your interrogation report and the report of Agent Moradi.”  
“That was all I could tell, I told them back then and I´ll tell you now.”  
“I don´t care for the recruiting and training program, Sir. I don´t care how the inner circles of the First Orders are working. I want to know your point of view on General Hux. Armitage Hux. The son of the late General Brendol Hux.”  
She can see even through the hologram how he takes a deep breath.  
“What exactly do you want to know?”  
“You have been the personal guard of Hux senior. How was their interaction with one another? How was he as an officer? As a General? Who is Armitage Hux, the military mastermind?”  
His shoulders are tensed, his face a stoic mask.  
“Their interaction was never personal. Professional at the most. One would have never guessed that they are father and son if not for the surname and resemblance of their faces. Armitage always looked exactly like a younger and healthier version of his father. He respected the chain of command but that doesn´t mean that he respected the people behind it. If there was one person he truly respected it was Grand Admiral Rae Sloane. What she said was law in his eyes. Rumours amongst us said that Sloane once, excuse me the choice of words, milady, beat the shit out of Brendol. Some of us heard older officers talking and whispering, complaining about Brendol, shaking their heads that he would put his own hands onto his son, that he´s lazy, incompetent, greedy… After his encounter with Sloane Armitage was suddenly to be seen at Brendols side, accompanying him, following him around, getting taught everything Brendol knew and all about his recruiting and training program. But they never have been like father and son. He admitted to me in the face that he ordered the murder of his father, saying it was time for the ‘old bastard to die’, entrusting Phasma with doing so and leaving no traces. Don´t think there wouldn´t be any traces. I am certain that he made sure there are traces leading to Phasma only in the worst case. He is smart, he is tricky, he makes sure that his hands are always clean. You know the truth about the death of Brendol Hux?”  
“The bite of a beetle that… turns you into water?”  
He nods shortly. “I am sure he stood in front of the bacta tank containing Brendol to heal, laughing at him. Two sentences. He only had to say two sentences concerning the death of his father before everything went on as usual. When he looked at him… pure loathing and hate spoke from his eyes. I am thankful for Agent Moradi. I know that he would have let assassinate me if I wouldn´t have encountered Phasma on my own the very same day I revealed my knowledge about it to Armitage. Milady, if you want to use him for the sake of our cause, be careful. No one survives playing games with Armitage Hux, not even a pretty face like yours. He is cunning, he is intelligent, he is a cold-hearted bastard and will always be two steps ahead of you. Those who stand in his way vanish from the surface of the galaxy. He is nice if it grants him the advantages he wants but if you are no longer useful for him… His weak points are his pride, his ego and Grand Admiral Rae Sloane.”  
“Milady, he´s coming down the hallway,” interrupts Leela their conversation. Of course, they have a security system, it was one of many demands for Amelia even staying here. Sensors and cameras telling Leela on her own datapad when someone reaches their level or walks through the hallway. Currently the T´wilek sees the General in his uniform again and with a bouquet in his arms walking straight towards her apartment.  
“Thank you, Lieutenant Cardinal. May the force be with you.”  
“May the force be with you.”  
The hologram vanishes, they are disconnected and Leela erases all datas right away. Light panic crawled up within her at first but now she´s only irritated. It´s early afternoon, her show starts only in six hours. Yes, she gave him the code to the apartment, knowing that everything that could compromise her, could give a hint on betrayal, carries Leela with her all the time. The apartment would be clean if he or his captain would ever search through it. She remembers Cardinals words. If it grants him the advantage he wants…  
The door opens silently, and she jumps up from the sofa, acting surprised to see him and Leela hurries to take his coat.  
“Armitage… what are you doing here?” One hand resting on her chest she takes a few steps towards him.  
“You gave me the code.”  
She gives him the pleasure of a little laugh.  
“And the thought of you was just too thrilling than the briefings I would be stuck within right now otherwise,” he smiles, stepping closer. Close enough he reaches out with one hand, the bouquet cradled in his arm like one would with an infant, resting it on the spot where her jaw connects with her neck. Pulling her closer he presses his lips onto hers, supressing a sound of surprise by her.  
Breaking apart again she takes a gasping breath. “Am I your pleasurable escape or do you want to rise in rank?” That sly grin again…  
“I wouldn´t mind both. But you should know that I don´t come without a gift.”  
“What about the moonflowers,” she smiles as she handed the bunch of Malreaux Roses.  
He puts his fingers around her chin, thumb stroking over her bottom lip.  
“You still have a show tonight. You´ll get your moonflowers, promise.”  
She breaks the eye contact before that one certain grin could do things to her, turning slightly and giving the bouquet Leela to take care of it. “It´s your own fault, Armitage,” she says, “you spoiled me with these. I fear I´ll be heavily disappointed once I shouldn´t receive them after one of my shows.”  
“I would never dare to disappoint you.”  
Still smiling she links her arm with his and lading him to the living area. “Have you already eaten something? Something good and properly, I mean.”  
“To be honest, yes. But I was hoping for a dessert.” He loosens her grip, bending down and caressing her neck with his lips, stroking her hair over her shoulder.  
“You are still hungry,” she sighs and closes her eyes.  
His other hand rests on her waist, pulling her slightly closer.  
Her own hands she places onto his chest. She can´t quite identify the fabric of his uniform coat. It´s too smooth for wool but too thick for any fine fabric. “Armitage?”  
“Hm?”  
“Shouldn´t we change?”  
“Into something more comfortable? Yes, indeed,” he murmurs at her neck.  
“No, I mean…” She licks over her lips, taking a breath. “I mean to the bedroom…”  
“This too,” he nods shortly.

The arms lie on the backrest of the sofa, tossing the wine in the glass he holds in his right hand shortly before taking a sip. His eyes never leaving her, observing her the whole time. When she applies her make-up, when her hair is pinned up and the wig put on, when she helped into the costume and meanwhile she sings the whole time to warm up, repeating a few parts of her role. Exchanging flirtatious glances and smiles the whole time.  
“I´ve read that there are only three shows left for you as the Queen.”  
“You´ve read correctly.”  
“And then? I doubt you want to step short.” Another sip.  
She turns around to him, ruffling the hem of the costume and walking towards him. “I´ll tell you when I get my flowers,” she grins, bending down to him.   
He tears his eyes from the sight of her décolleté and looks up to her eyes, smirking. “Are you trying to make a deal with me?”  
“Is it working?”  
His eyes wander back to her décolleté, the fingertips of his left hand are stroking softly from her neck down until they brush the edging of her neckline. “You´ll get them.”  
She places a hand onto his cheek and her lips onto his. Tasting the wine, he drank. “I want the prettiest moonflowers of all, therefore I´ll be breath-taking tonight, promise.”  
“You mean on the stage?”  
She giggles softly. “And off it.”   
“You shall get them.” He catches her lips before he empties his glass in one go, rising to his feet. “You get always what you want?”  
“Mostly.” It´s now her turn to smirk. She takes the empty glass out of his hand, the other hand she puts at his neck and pulling him down until their lips meet. At last she shoved him out of her wardrobe before their kisses could grew into something different. He needs to take his seat and she needs to clear her mind.   
It was during the final applause that she was taken by surprise. During single roses been thrown onto the stage the chrome like figure of the General`s most trusted Captain enters from the exit of the stage. The familiar sight of her blaster slung over her shoulder and holding instead a bouquet of Tellanadan moonflowers in her hands. Those she wanted so dearly. The applause recedes. All staring at the role model of a trooper the First Order uses for its propaganda, looking around the hall, trying to find where the member of the First Order sits who is so generous, and most of all, who that might be.   
With a smile and a whispered ‘thank you’ she takes the bouquet, turning into he direction where he sits, looking, up to the box he owns and doing a curtsey. Now everyone will know that the First Order has an admirer of her. Now everyone will know that she is friends with the First Order, he made it public now and though she can´t see it, she is sure that he wears that one certain dangerous grin on his lips right now while watching her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always appreciated :)
> 
> I included Captain Cardinal because I actually liked him in the Phasma novel.


	9. Kneel, that´s an order

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NC-17, nsfw

As soon as the door shut close behind them he turns at her and presses her body against it with his own, pushing the code to lock the door into the panel.  
She closes her eyes with a sound of pleasure as he also keeps his lips locked with hers.  
“You should have told me,” he breathes, lips pressed against her neck, unsure if he should undress her or not.  
“Why?... To ruin the surprise?”  
“As a warning.”  
Probably she should have but how could she have guessed that she would have such an effect on him in this costume. He halfway dragged, halfway urged her onto his ship, accompanied by her giggles after she reassured him that there won´t be a party afterwards for her premiering in that role and that no one would mind if she takes the costume with her for once.  
The costume – a uniform of an admiral, a princess who takes over the command of the army of her planet to defend her people from the enemy, falling unfortunately for the enemy’s son and taking her own life than to betray her people.  
“Can you even imagine how hard it was for me to sit still for three hours,” he breathes.  
She giggles shortly, arching her back slightly and pushing her hip into his. “Oh, I can feel it.” She arches into his hands as his fingers open hastily her blouse. His lips moving deeper her neck. Right beneath the collar he leaves his mark on her. Just barely deep enough that the collar is hiding it. His words before they shared their first kiss come into her mind. There is nothing screaming more power than a woman in a uniform. Everybody who ever dealt with General Hux says he would be hungry for power... Her fingers glide into his hair, tugging at it, the sound he makes tells her how much he likes it, encourages her and sends a hot wave down between her legs, until he looks at her.  
She breathes ones, the look in his eyes… “Kneel, that´s an order.” She closes her eyes as he presses his lips onto hers, sighing.  
He lets go of her lips and drops onto his knees right away. He was lucky to have had his coat with him to hide how very much her performance excited him. Seeing her on stage in that tight uniform costume, even in this skirt that no female officer would ever wear, but with ranks and insignias, in boots which heels click with every step, giving orders, singing songs about crushing the enemy, of revenge, a fiery speech… It did things to him, surprised him how hard he, his body, responded to it though the director had more a military fashion show with the costume in mind than to have the tiniest accuracy… He always had a liking to uniforms. The strictness and sharp cuts of it alone speak of control and order. Probably because he grew up surrounded by those but doesn´t know and doesn´t care. He only knows he would have never guessed that it would make… this to him. And now that she told him to kneel, ordered him to do so… how could he ever deny her that request? He rustles her skirt higher, over her knees and up to her waist, hooking his fingers into the waistband of her panty and pulling it down.  
She braces herself more against the door with seeing him going down onto his knees by her command. She gulps once, taking a panting breath, tongue gliding over her lips. She would have never thought to see him from this angle. He, looking up to her, a slave of his desire and need, to her only because of a few pieces of clothes… Who can say that General Hux kneeled in front of them? By their command, so willingly? She admits, she likes it. It turns her on. It makes her knees going weak, increasing her arousal. She leans her head back with his unsteady, impatient fingers shoving her skirt upwards, looking down again. Unwitting she moves her hip forward as he pulls her panty down and a moment later escapes a high pitch sound her lips. She leans her head back with closed eyes, the fingers of her right hand finding their way into his hair again, holding him where he is, softly tugging and pulling at it with every kiss and lick, every time he sucks the skin between his lips, every time he sends little sparks through her.  
His own hands holding her hips pinned against the door, his own moans mixing with her sighs of pleasure. She tastes so good, feels so warm and this alone increases his own desire, the need to bury himself inside of her, pinning her up against the door with the pressure of her thighs around his waist, her fingers pulling at his hair and her sweet lips moaning her lust for him against his ear. He knows, he should keep it professional. He needs her to get what he wants. He needs her to be addicted to the sex with him and not the other way around. But he can at least gain a little personal pleasure from it, right? It can´t be bad when all of this goes hand in hand, right? Despite he thinks that her role of the Princess Admiral will be his death. It was always a simple satisfying of needs, but can he be blamed when he goes down onto his knees in front of someone who so beautifully satisfies all his desires? Who wouldn´t? He increases his efforts and is rewarded with lovely sounds of her until she whimpers his name, wriggling her hips, until she lets out a “You´re promoted!” in pure excitement.  
A few small kisses before he gets up on his feet again, one hand rests between her thighs, slowly caressing and stroking the tender flesh. “I am promoted,” he whispers, kissing his way from her neck to her ear, hearing her trying to catch her breath again.  
Lazily she nods, sighs and leans against him. “You´re promoted… to lover… “  
“How easy it is to rise in rank with you,” he chuckles.  
She turns her head slightly, looking at him with half closed eyes, blissful satisfaction speaks from her whole face. “You´re just too good,” she breathes.  
“I can do better.”  
“Proof it.” She looks straight at him, feels him taking his hands off her and hears him undoing his belt and rustling with his trousers. A shudder of excitement goes through her.  
Watching her face, her glance wandering from his eyes to between their hips and back, gnawing at her bottom lip makes his fingers moving more hastily. He is pretty sure by now that Phasma takes an extra round around the district. They should have landed already otherwise. “I can proof it through the whole night.”  
“Then why are you still talking?”  
He takes her chin into one hand, holding her face still with her provoking words. A small smile spreads over his lips, that kind she feels endangered by. Cheeky, little… He needs to kiss those swollen lips, needs to kiss them into a deeper shade of red and while he does so he puts his hands to better use. Putting them under her buttocks and lifting her up. Pressing her with his own body against the door, grumbling with her thighs around his waist and her arms around his neck. Once more her fingers find their way into his hair. Her fingers in his hair are giving him a lustful shudder.

As she wakes up it´s deep in the night, all is dark except a blue light coming from a datapad. She feels his warmth, her legs tangled with his. She hears his breathing, hears his heartbeat with her head resting half on his chest. She feels his fingers stroking softly constantly through her hair. Somehow as if she would be a pet but also somehow as if it would calm him down for he seemed completely relaxed. With her eyes adjusting to light and dark she lifts her gaze, not daring to move. He holds his datapad in the other hand, looking straight at it, the face concentrated. Is he ever not working, she wonders. She tries to read something but can´t catch anything from the screen from that angle. She closes her eyes again, lets a few seconds pass before she sighs and snuggles closer to him, yawning and blinking.  
He stops with reading, turning his eyes towards her. A soft smile spreads over his face.  
“Are you ever sleeping,” she mumbles.  
“I am sorry. Did I wake you up? It wasn´t my intention.” He puts the datapad with the screen down onto the blanket covering his belly.  
“I just wonder if you are really always on duty. Always so important.”  
He sighs, switching the datapad off and putting it onto the nightstand.  
“How much do you actually sleep?”  
He turns his gaze back to her, startled. “Why do you ask?”  
“My dear,” she sits up, leaning over him. Her left index finger drawing invisible lines over his chest. “We had three rounds, four including your talented tongue, of very steamy, very dirty and incredible sex and you lie here with a datapad in your face and working?”  
His smile turns into a smirk, his eyes wandering over her as she straddles him.  
“I obviously haven´t exhausted you enough when you can still work instead of sleeping and regaining your strength. Do I need to ride you into unconsciousness?”  
“Is that a threat? If so, trust me, it´s not working,” he smirks. “I would even dare you to do so.” His fingertips stroking playfully over her hip and waist.  
“I am serious, Armitage. The night is for incredible sex and sleep and not for working.” She bends a little down. “It does you no good if you make it a habit of yours to abandon sleep.”  
“Thank you for your concern but I can assure you that I get as much sleep as I need.”  
“I guess it is already a habit of yours… New rule. No work in the bed. Or on the sofa. The carpet…. The table… the shower or bathtub.”  
He opens his lips to respond but is silenced by the simple gesture of her raising a finger.  
“Or in my wardrobe. Are we on terms?”  
“You make it sound as if I would turn my attention from you as soon as you got off.”  
“I find you working while my perfume still lingers on you,” she whispers. She bends down, silencing him with her lips on his own.  
“I wasn´t working,” he tries lazily to defend himself. His lips catching hers again. “I was looking for the one special thing for your birthday…”  
“Let me take a look.” She reaches over to the nightstand, trying to get her hand onto the datapad but her hand is caught by his, every single knuckle is kissed gently.  
“Uh-uh… You said no work in your bed and my work is my datapad. You made the rule yourself,” he says with a tiny sing-sang in his voice, smirking with amusement. Oh, the little pout she makes… he could fall for that pout.  
“But I can tell you best what I like and what would suit me best.”  
“And where would be the surprise?”  
“I don´t need a surprise.”  
He chuckles lowly. He holds her closer and with one swift move he brings her beneath him. “Liar… I know by now that there are some surprises you are eager for.”  
She sighs with him moving the blanket out of the way, placing her thighs around his waist. “So, does this mean you will be present during the small party I´ll host?” It would be the first time he comes visiting her without the excuse to watch her on stage. Is he even the type of person for parties? Everything else so far was never really a party.  
“What would I be for a lover if I wouldn´t attend your birthday party? They all know anyway that I´ve got my eyes on you.”  
“You made it very clear with Phasma giving me the bouquet on stage. She must have hate you for this,” she giggles, and he joins her.  
“She didn´t speak for three days with me afterwards.”  
“I think she doesn´t like me.” With a sigh of pleasure and closed eyes she arches against him with his lips spreading little kisses over her neck, her wrists hold together above her head by one of his hands.  
“The contrary,” he murmurs. “She likes the excurses to Coruscant. And you´re the excuse for a trip to Coruscant… You also have one thing in common…”  
“And that might be?”  
“You both worry about my sleeping schedule.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always appreciated :)


	10. Through and through satisfactory

As the host of the party it´s her duty to answer the door and welcoming her guests but this time she did it not with a big smile but rather with true surprise on her face.  
“I am so sorry, I really am. But the babysitter cancelled in the last minute, the Nanny in on leave for a family thing, and you know I don´t entrust any droid with my child, I simply couldn´t find anyone…”  
“Zarah, it´s alright,” Amelia smiles, as the first shock passed to see her friend with her six year old boy in her arms. “It´s alright, don´t be sorry, it can happen. I am sure Leela will be happy to take care of him for tonight. Come in.” The boy wiggles in his mother’s arms, wanting to be let down onto his own two feet. “And it had been a while since I saw him, oh my, you´ve grown into big boy, Alexis.”  
“Happy Birthday, aunt Amelia!” A small bunch of flowers is hold out to her with a big smile, proud to have said it correctly, and she goes into her knees, taking the flowers and hugging the boy close.  
“Thank you very much, they are so beautiful! And they smell so nice! Have you picked them?”  
Blond locks are wiping around with a fierce nod. “You did so well! Leela!” A blink later the T´wilek girl appears. “Let the droids do their work. Would you please watch over Alexis tonight?”  
“Of course, milady,” she smiles. “Hello Alexis, it is ages since I saw you last time.”  
“Ten weeks and three days.” Without hesitation he takes her hand.  
“And you grew even smarter than you were the last time. Do you want to watch a holovid,” she whispers in a conspiratorially tone.  
Looking back to his mother who is busy with his aunt, he turns to Leela again and nods with a wide grin.  
  
Only with a soft tucking at his sleeve he recognises the little boy of Miss Turnell standing next to him, obviously wanting something from him. He only saw him earlier this evening out of the corner of his eyes how he called Amelia aunt and then disappeared with her help. He prostrates to be on eye level with the boy, smiling. “Yes?”  
The others around him, actors, patrons, her agent are holding their breath. That child disturbing the General midsentence, right in the middle of a conversation. Has no one taught the child so far that it has not to disturb adults in their talking? What for a lousy job is the help doing that she can´t even keep both eyes on that child! Not to mention the mother who brought her child with her to a party.  
The boy holds out a com device to the General. “It´s for you,” he chirps.  
“Thank you very much, how kind of you to bring the call to me.” He rises onto his feet again and answering the com without call. “Yes, this is General Hux from the First Order speaking,” he starts in a tone he keeps for the Finalizer, “Yes,” he nods, standing tall and straight and completely serious, “Uh-uh… of course, Sir. I see to it immediately, Sir. My pleasure, Sir.”  
He bends down, giving the device back to the boy. “Do you know who that was?” A shaking of the head. “That was the Surpreme Leader himself. And he told me that you are promoted to Captain,” he smiled. “You are the youngest Captain the First Order ever had!” The child beamed over his whole face.  
“Do you know what a Captain has to do?”  
Blond locks flinging around as the child once more shook his head.  
“Then I´ll show you, come.” It was the perfect excuse to get away from these people that will bore him to death otherwise. “Gentleman, if you excuse me, I`ll have to teach the youngest Captain of our Fleet.” With a hand on his chest and a little bow of his head he is dragged away at his hand by the boy.  
Of course, he is excused. And it´s reassuring to see that the education and training program of the Order lies in the right hands with the General who is so nice to children and can obviously handle them very well. There couldn´t be anyone better for this task than the General himself. They continued their conversation but watched from afar how the General takes a seat in an armchair, the boy on his lap, and teaching him with holos on a datapad the difference between a legion and a battalion, what a squadron is and what a cohort.

“So, that is your General?” A sip is taken, and she is looked at over the edge of the glass.  
“He is not mine General, just like I am not his primadonna.”  
“But it is the General who attends all of your shows and showers you with such beautiful flowers.” It´s gestured to the table where several bouquets of Tellanadan Moonflowers are standing. “Is he showering you with more than that?”  
She points to her earrings, holding out her wrists to show the bracelet. “Despite these he showers me with affection and incredible… bedtime stories,” she smirks, taking a sip from her glass, hearing the others giggling. “I can only recommend to you to get yourself a man from the military. They are always ready to stand at attention, listen eagerly to commands and are very dutifully.” Another round of giggles.  
“He is indeed handsome.”  
“Cheekbones that can cut durasteel.”  
“And a jawline to die for.”  
“Is he truly a ginger?”  
“Through and through,” she smirks, looking over to him.  
Another giggle of the other women and they hold their breath as he looks over to her. That bastard, she thinks as he puts on that one smile, the sly one, the dangerous one, and the others sigh once, before he is distracted by Zarah´s little boy.  
“Hmmm… looks good in those trousers bending his knees… I hope you don´t waste chances to let him pick up as many things as possible from the floor.” She laughs lowly, slapping her friends arm softly.  
“Milady!” Leela hurried up to her side, a little out of breath. “I am sorry, milady, Miss Turnell… I took my eyes off only for a second, I swear, and he was suddenly gone!”  
“It´s alright Leela, don´t worry. Nothing happened. Don´t worry about Alexis.”  
“Oh no,” a low gasp. “He´s nice to children too…”  
“He is good with children… Now I know where all the good men are kept… In the First Order.”  
“And I thought that perfect men are a myth,” one of them sighs.  
She is nudged with an elbow. “How is he?”  
“Let´s say… very fulfilling.”  
They break out into giggles again.  
“You know what they say about military men.”  
“Tava, not everyone who wears a uniform is into weird kinks…” She rolls with her eyes. “He goes onto his knees when I command him so, I can´t complain. He looks incredible in his uniform, praises me in mine for Chrakovs ‘The Princess Admiral’ and everything else is a private matter you only need to know about that he is through and through satisfactory.”  
“You are one lucky bitch, Amelia.”  
She laughs lowly. “There´s nothing speaking against it that you get yourself an officer. The First Order is full of men.”  
  
He took a seat onto the sofa, leaning back and emptying his glass. With the last guest gone and out of the door she comes back to the living area, letting herself falling next to him leaning against his side. Immediately he puts an arm around her shoulders. Both are slipping off their shoes and both escapes a sigh. Neither her heels nor his boots are comfortable enough to wear them through the whole day and through most of the night.  
She snuggles closer to him, a hand resting on his chest. “When do you have to leave?”  
“How long do you bear me?”  
She sighs. “Hundreds and thousands and millions of nights…”  
He laughs lowly.  
The sound makes her smiling. The sound makes her forget where he is when he´s not with her.  
“I am serious. How long do you bear me?”  
“Don´t you have to return at some point?”  
“I can take a leave for a few days. There´s nothing I can do from here on my datapad.”  
“Is that my actual birthday gift? Having you for myself for a few days?”  
He turns his head towards her, smirking. “Are you not satisfied with the jewellery? If the stones would be bigger it would be impossible to wear them as earrings.”  
Now it´s her turn to laugh lowly. “No. No, it´s better than all the jewellery in the Galaxy.”  
“So, no jewellery anymore?” He sighs. “Too stupid. I already got something for the next special occasion.”  
“Really?!”  
Another laugh as she suddenly sits up straight.  
On one hand she is a bit proud of herself and surprised at the same time that she made him feeling so comfortable around her, that his stoic expression crackles with her and reveals Armitage Hux, leaving the General behind. On the other hand, she likes it. She feels comfortable herself around him. That´s not a bad thing, right? It only makes it way easier to act.  
“You really could stay,” she asks again, still sceptical. He never stayed longer than breakfast.  
“If you would bear my presence here. My bag´s in the ship.” Did the request come too early? Was he too bold? Should he have waited a few more weeks? She never bore him longer than breakfast. ‘I can´t occupy any longer, you´re an important man full of duties’. He can´t ruin it now…  
“And they won´t send a special force team to come looking for you because you have been absent from the bridge for a whole day?”  
“An extract commando,” he laughs. “No, trust me. Those who need to know that I am here, all the work that needs to be done I can do on my datapad and my com will be on all the time in case of an emergency. I thought about… three, maybe four days.” He shrugs with his shoulders.  
“And you promise me there won´t be a battalion of stormtroopers knocking at my door because the First Orders General went missing and I am assumed to keep him hostage?”  
Another laugh. “Promise. Don´t forget that Phasma is still with me.”  
“Won´t she be bored?”  
“One call and she can work for theses days with Coruscant Guards. Watching how they work and operate, getting inspired for our own program… You haven´t answered me yet. – I can go if you want me to, I don´t mean to…” He is pushed back as he lets go of her and wanting to rise.  
“I would really like to,” she smiles bright.  
“Wonderful.” He returns the smile, leaning back and pulls her closer again, sending a short signal from his com.  
“I thought you don´t have vacations.”  
“We don´t. But my choices aren´t questioned and my presence is not necessarily required currently. They are all grown adults who shouldn´t need to be taken by the hand.”  
“Thank the stars that I got myself a General.”  
He smirks, looking down on her. He must admit… he feels good right now. Calm. Relaxed. Just sitting on the sofa with tired feet, with her in one arm, only the noise of a droid cleaning up in the background and her help working in the kitchen, knowing that everything and everyone who bothers him are lightyears away, hours per hyperspeed… It feels good.  
“You did well with Zarah´s boy, earlier.”  
“You sound surprised. Only because I`m wearing uniform I am not allowed to be well with children?”  
“Of course you are. I just wonder… well… you don´t have some on your own you haven´t told me about so far?”  
“Don´t worry,” he smirks. “That´s not where my experience comes from. I only have to do the exact opposite of what my father did with me – Tadaa,” he shrugs his shoulders again, leaning his head back with closed eyes. “And children are less complicate, less exhausting than adults. They are naturally curious and eager to learn.”  
Can she risk it? “What… did your father do with you?”  
“Let us not ruin this wonderful evening,” he smiles at her. “He always said I would be useless, but now he´s dead and I am General with an actual angel in my arms. I´ve won at last, that´s all you need to know.”  
Alright, she thinks, another weak point she must investigate more.  
“But now I think it´s time for some sleep, don´t you think?”  
“You must be tired when by all you are the one suggestion to get some sleep,” she says amused.”  
“Your friends are really exhausting, you need to admit that.”  
“You haven´t heard the ladies,” she giggles.  
“I am not sure if I want to know…”  
“Oh, you´d have liked what they said about you… How handsome you are…” She strokes with her index finger over his cheek, down to his jaw.  
“Yes. I like that indeed.”  
“They were all swooning as you took care of Alexis.”  
A small smirk. “I will never understand why women are so fascinated by men being good with children. It´s called being a decent human being with social skills.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated, talk to me guys :D
> 
> Hux is nice to kids, it´s canon.  
> If you read the Phasma novel you´ll see.


	11. Only a little

It was the first time they fell asleep without sexual intercourse. The first time they slept next to each other with her wearing her nightgown and he his pyjama. Generally, it was the first time she saw him wearing anything different than his uniform, besides a towel around his hips or her blanket, and even the pyjama he makes looking like a uniform. Are they really building a relationship? She wonders even more the following days. They fell asleep next to each other, she wakes up next to him. His boots next to her shoes by the door, his toothbrush next to her at the washbasin, his reflection next to hers in the morning when they both get ready for the day. She got used to the smell of his body wash and aftershave in the refresher after he took a shower in the morning and it´s still warm and steamy from the hot water. She even got used to the smell of this terrible bitter tea he likes. She took only just one sip once and will never do so again. At least her face with tasting it made him laugh for the rest of the day.  
She is surprised by herself how fast she got used to all of this. Already after day two she felt comfortable with his constant presence in her apartment, seeing his personal things next to hers, and she admits: She likes it. Even that he accompanies her. One meeting with her agent, one interview and twice a fashion designer visited her with their whole teams, so she could choose from their latest collection for a gala, a premier and he always sat in the background in an armchair or sofa, acting as if he wouldn´t be present, witnessing everything carefully. Probably figuring out her life beside the stage.  
Is he really interested in her? Honestly? It breaks her heart a little, giving her a small bad conscience when she thinks of her true cause… maybe… maybe she can change his mind? He doesn´t seem to be the big evil guy. The bad wolf. He is smart, very intelligence even, eloquent, kind to children and she can´t complain the slightest in how he treats her. Just like her friends implied on her party. A perfect man. What could she wish for more in a man?  
Maybe she can really change his mind. What could bring their cause more benefit than a deflected General of the First Order?  
With his hands on her hip and lips on her neck he urges her towards his improvised desk. She keeps her rules up, no work in the bed, on the sofa and so on. So, they took a desk she rarely uses anyway, placed it in the living area with the most natural daylight where he can sit at keeping his work up and still looks professional the one time he had to do a holo conference.  
She feels the edge of its plate against the back of her thighs before he lifts her and places her on top of the desk, putting her thighs around his waist, urging himself between her legs, admiring the comfortable warmth between them.  
“Maybe I should consider taking you with me one,” he breathes, “Inviting you to the Finalizer… a small concert… boosting the moral of the troops… rewarding them…”  
“That´s not the true reason, is it,” she sighs, leaning her head to one side, enjoying his lips and teeth, his tongue on her neck.  
A low laugh. “Okay… I only want to take you on my desk.”  
She joins into his low laugh.  
“From all angles…” He draws her earlobe between his lips. “Or me sitting on my chair, you on top…”  
Another sigh before she giggles. “Imagine me hiding beneath it, pleasuring you while you put an officer into his place…” The ultimate displaces of power and control.  
He draws back, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at him. “Are you trying to kill me, woman?”  
“Only a little.”  
To see the daring in her eyes, that she indeed provokes him… Their own little game. Daring and teasing him until she gets what she wants. She knows so well by now how to pull his strings and he doesn´t even mind. He presses his lips onto hers. A low grumbling sound escapes him as she opens her lips, welcoming his tongue. A moan slips him with her fingers too unexpected grabbing his hair, bucking his hips forward. Before he met her he never would´ve guessed what a hand in his hair can do to him, how hard his body would react to it. Though he isn´t sure if it´s the gesture alone… or her.  
Maybe it is only because he is the desperate bastard his father proclaimed him to be. Starving for affection, for touches like these. Touches caused by honest affection, true lust, not lead by credits or the promise of a promotion and other small benefits.  
The weak, sickly boy, pale like a piece of flimsi – ‘and just as useless as one’ - the ginger heritage making it even worse. No matter what he says and proclaims, he can still hear his fathers voice in the back of his mind. He could be Emperor of the Galaxy and yet he still would call him a failure, a mistake, useless. Denouncing him for investing time and money into a woman. Right now, he would probably decry him with in every way possible, fawning like a dog in front of her. May it be for her influence, money, getting into the high society or simply to produce another bastard of his.  
Another moan, deeper and louder this time slips him. He was too deep in thoughts, letting himself being distracted by that hated voice in his mind when he has her in front him. Dress crinkled up her lap, the lips parted and her breath panting, cheeks flushed, bringing her to sing sweet tones in his very own way. Only with pulling at his hair and taking his growing erection into her soft and warm hand tore him out of his thoughts.  
“You´re absent,” she whispers into his ear, kissing the spot right beneath it, continuing to stroke up and down.  
He keeps his eyes shut close, his sight would be blurry anyway. “No, no,” he breathes, “I´m here… I´m here.” Gulping once, licking over his dry lips. One hand he keeps on her hip, with the other one he braces himself on the desk, face buried in the hollow of her neck.  
“Do I need to punish you?” Another breathed whisper, the voice sultry and heavy with lust.  
He takes a deep breath, a warm shudder runs through him and settles in his core, tightening the knot of excitement. The brows furrowed, concentrating completely on her voice and her delicate hand.  
“Should I command you to go down on your knees?”  
He chuckles lowly. “That´s not how punishment works, my dear… Do you want to reward me or punish me?”  
She draws back far enough to look at him, slapping him playfully onto his upper arm. “Armitage…!”  
“You need to learn how punishment works, my dear,” he smirks, calming his breath a little, the pace of his heartbeat. “Ordering me to go down on my knees and devouring you is no punishment at all.” He puts a hand around her chin, thumb stroking her bottom lip.  
“So… you´re also skilled in punishments? Then why don´t you show me? I only want to learn from the best.”  
Lips almost touching he whispers: “Your wish is my command.” He kisses her until he draws a sweet sigh from her lips, until she breaks the kiss to breath again. He pulls slightly back, loosening her grip on him and pulls her from the desk.  
A sharp sound slips her as he turns her around, pressing himself against her back and her against the edge of the desk. She puts her hands onto the surface for support. She closes her eyes and sighs as she feels his hands ruffling her dress over her hip, feeling his hard member pressed against her, teasing her. He strokes her hair aside, spoiling the thin skin of her neck with his lips while his hand glides between her legs, the middle finger finding the small bunch of nerves and brings her to sing. 

Her finger hovers over the button to delete the file. She doesn´t think of it as right. Thinking she would too hard betray his trust if she would read the file she was just send. It says it´s everything they gathered from witnesses about the early life of the General. It came with the warning that the file contains reports of child abuse. She gained his trust and feels, now she would abuse said trust if she would proceed to read. Wouldn´t it be… a proof of said trust if he tells her himself? The Captain already told her about the stone-cold relationship between Hux senior and junior. Does she really need to read that file to know that Hux senior was everything else than a loving father?  
She looks up to the door to the refresher, hearing him behind it. She deletes the file and turning off her datapad, tears coming up her eyes. She would be a terrible actress if she couldn´t cry whenever it´s necessary.  
“Is everything alright?” He asks as he steps into the bedroom, seeing her wiping her eyes and putting her datapad aside, concern in his voice. He steps closer to the bed, taking off his robe and putting it over the backrest of the chair to her dressing table.  
“Oh… it´s nothing, really… I-I… I just looked up old pictures of me and… my family.”  
He freezes shortly before he continues and joins her in the bed, slipping beneath the blanket. “I´ve read they were taken from you in an accident.”  
She nods simply.  
“How cruel…”  
She shrugs with her shoulders. “At least… at least it was fast. No suffering…”  
“Except for you.”  
She looks at him. “Well… we all are going to die one day, right?” Another shrug with her shoulders, wiping the traces of tears off her cheeks.  
“They loved you?”  
“Dearly… Until I was ten they tucked me into bed every night. My father made sure that I was protected tightly by the blanket from all hideous monsters luring under my bed and my mother read a tale to me or she sung.”  
“That´s where your singing voice comes from.”  
She sees him softly smiling at her as she looks at him. She leans closer in as he puts an arm around her shoulders.  
He looks shortly at her, then his eyes wandering around the room unfocused, not sure what to say or if to say anything at all. It´s like walking on thin ice, a topic he likes to spare. He is not good with it. Showing compassion and empathy. He was always taught to show no emotions, emotions are for weak. If you want to rise in rank you can´t have the luxury of empathy. You don´t become leader of the First Order with being full of empathy and compassion. And the only one who showed something like empathy to him was Sloane… He read that taking someone into ones’ arms, stroking over the back or the shoulder would soothe people in such situations.  
“I don´t know my mother… I don´t know who she was or if she is even alive. All I know about her I was told by my father.”  
“What did he told you?” She looks up to him, putting a hand onto his chest.  
“If he wouldn´t have been I wouldn´t have taken my first breath. That she wanted to get rid of me… That I should thank him that he had enough mercy and decency to take me in.”  
“You should thank him that he showed responsibility for his actions?”  
Throwing a glance at her he sees the disbelieve in her face. “Not everyone has… had parents like yours…”  
“Did… he had enough decency?”  
He turns his eyes away again. “None at all.” He loosens his arm around her, turning his back at her and attempting to leave the bed. Before he can do so she hugs him from behind. He tries to loosen her arms, but she holds onto him only tighter and he couldn´t make her let him go without hurting her. He doesn´t want to hurt her. So, he just sits there, sighing deeply and a moment later he doesn´t know why it bursts out of him, why he even tells her all of this.  
“It was always the belt. Mostly for the buckle. Sometimes until I bled and then he panicked, calling for a medical droid to patch me up again. Only always a droid. Never a real medic. He was so cunning that he always only bruised me in spots that where neatly hid by every uniform I wore. I was only always the bastard. He rarely called me by my name. He never missed a chance to make it clear to me of how much of a burden I am to him. He called me… useless like a piece of flimsy. Weak. A Nanny droid took care of me until I was old enough to attend the Academy. Who taught you to walk and to speak? I was taught by a Nanny droid…” He closes his eyes and sighs as he feels her fingers stroking through his hair. Cunning… Knowing well how to take advantage from that one weakness of his she figured out. A kiss on his cheek… “But that old bastard is dead, and I am alive.” One corner of his lips slightly lifts upwards as he remembers the day he stood in front of the bacta tank with the paralyzed body of his father inside. The satisfaction he felt in that moment to let him know that he suffers like this on his orders. That he decided that it was time for him to die. To take his revenge, to repay him for every single minute he had to suffer… That his bastard son, this weak-willed boy, his useless son, initiated his death. “I am the highest ranked General in the First Order, leader of its military forces.” He turns as much in her arms as he is possible to. “And Coruscants Angel in my arms, the most beautiful voice in the Galaxy sighs my name… I´ve won at last.” He smiles at her and still with her fingers in his hair he presses his lips onto hers. Slowly he sinks back, holding her close with his own arms around her, eyes closed, kissing and kissing her again. 

In the morning he doesn´t know anymore when they felt asleep, he only remembers kissing her, probably until they fell asleep. He has to departure again, she knew he would, he knew he would, no matter how… much he liked the last days. How much he liked how… ordinary all had been. Like in an actual relationship he thought. The small ordinary daily routine they build up. Waking up together, going to the refresher, getting dressed, breakfast, he watches her working, she watches him, lunch, dinner and falling asleep next to each other. She won´t be holding him back and despite her vocalising how much she regrets him leaving, he is thankful to her to understand very well his position and rank, his duty and that the last days had been a lucky exception.  
“You should accept the offer and invitation of Canto Bight.”  
“Would you even attend the concert?”  
“I can hardly miss it, can I,” he smirks. “They pay well. They offer you a suit in the hotel for free, and I guess I am right to say it will be the most luxurious one, the jewellery, dresses, everything you wish. That´s a splendid deal in my eyes. You don´t have to pay anything, the contrary, you are even paid and just imagine the audience you can reach.”  
“It would be a splendid deal with you being there. I can ask them… no, I can demand of them to give you rooms next to mine, for you are my honourable guest.”  
Now with a sly grin he replies: “I knew you´d be cunning…”

His Captain watched him saying goodbye from the ramp of his ship on the landing platform of her apartment. Irritating gentle, in her eyes. By the way he cups her face with his hand, thumb stroking either over her bottom lip or her cheek, the look in the Generals eyes when his gaze rests on her…It was too gentle in her eyes for someone using the influence the Primadonna has. And just the way both closing their eyes and leaning in for a kiss… The look when they both open their eyes again…  
She leans in her head to one side, only a tiny bit. At least he looks well rested, maybe it´s her turn this time to send the Primadonna a bouquet as thank you that the General can properly function again and finally got a healthy sleeping schedule. Hopefully. At least she doesn´t make a teary, heart breaking scene. She gives her credit for it for being still rational. Enjoying a few days but knowing very well that they are over at some point and everything must go on like usual again.  
As the General finally can tear himself away from the woman, she sees her waiting for him, she waves at her with a smile. A small and simply nod she receives from the Captain as only recognition for respect and acknowledging her.  
Stepping onto the landing platform the General turns around as she followed him. Another last goodbye kiss. And another. And another. An another.  
The door to the platform is closed with her inside the apartment as he finally steps into the ship and she can close the ramp, taking her seat in the cockpit with his simple order to return to the Finalizer again. Though she will never admit it, but she´ll miss a little bit the guys from the Coruscant Guards. It was a nice change for once to break in doors, demonstrating her hand to hand combat skills and fully legally breaking criminals arms or shooting into their leg when they resisted.


	12. A Galaxy of passion

Amelia shuts the door to her wardrobe after entering and seeing who waited there for her, checking before if anyone or anything saw the intruder or is close by. “What are you doing here, Commander,” she hisses in a low voice.   
A thatch of brown dishevelled hair looks up as soon as she enters, brown eyes not the slightest surprised. Snacking on a chocolate out of a box that was brought in earlier together with another small present. He brings out a card that was attached to the little box and reads it out loud.   
“For the sweet moments we will miss, Armitage – So you´re on first name term? At least he knows what a good chocolate is.” He holds out the box and offers it to her and shrugs with his shoulders as she doesn´t proceed to take any. “Also… nice to see where the credits go the First Order steals.” He puts the box with chocolates aside and takes the smaller box, already opened and showing a sparkling bracelet.   
She snaps it out of his hand and holding it close. “What are you doing here? In my wardrobe? Here on Coruscant City,” she hisses again. “We agreed we won´t stay in contact directly, not to mention to even see each other and you must have banged your head in your precious fighter –“  
“X-Wing.”  
“-to come here to Coruscant City…!”  
“Easy, princess… No one saw me, and no one will see me. They are sloppy. The IDs and Codes we have are perfectly fine.”  
“I hate to repeat myself.”  
“You sound now just like him.”  
“What are you doing here?”  
“You said you were successful to download all datas from his datapad.”  
“It would have been too risky to send them, to keep them stored on my own. Captain Phasma has a love for security checks.”  
“Wow, she is suspicious when she doesn´t trusts you, Hux’ girlfriend. Or should I call him Hugs,” he smirks.  
“It´s natural, I am an outsider, I am in no part related to the Order. I don´t see why her acting should be suspicious, besides her background… I would do the same.” She puts the box aside and taking an earring off.   
“Just don´t forget your cause over fancy presents.”  
An unladylike noise leaves her lips while she takes out a datachip small enough to fit into her earring. “We have bigger ones in our treasure vaults.” Nevertheless, does she like the gesture of him. It is the first show of her he misses but still shows her affection, a present, trying to make up for his absence. She is already now sure that there are moonflowers to wait for her later. She gives the small datachip over.   
Shortly the pilot holds her hand firm between his. “No matter how nice he is to you, what for sweet promises he gives you and how much he showers you with presents…”  
“Don´t lecture me about not falling for the enemy. I know better who this man is than you, commander. I am bedding the enemy. What do you sacrifice?” She pulls back her hand, sounding angry, defensive and outraged with pure intention. “The bug in the coat worked but he obviously wears it only rarely. This here,” he holds up the chip, “will do a better job to convince the New Republic. Thank you,” he nods, meaning his thanks honest.   
“I also put a list onto it of my admirers and patrons now officially supporting the First Order. It should be easy for yours to let a terrible mistake happen to their bank accounts.”  
“My droid could do it while on standby…”  
“Though it would be wiser to steal a single credit from each one. It´s such a small amount, none of them will notice and it will finance the Resistance at the same time. My father told me they did it in his active days.”  
“They would still give their money to the Order.”  
“Is the Resistance not in need of money? Take your head out of your cockpit and start to think.”  
He looks at her shortly and suddenly starts to laugh. At least in one point all princesses are the same. They can bring anyone onto their knees with a single glance. “Good to see you back again, I was worried for a moment that Hugs could have been too charming.”  
She is indeed an excellent actress, she thinks. She relaxes a bit. She will keep the thought for herself that she might bring him to deflect. Not even with Leela she talked about it. All would tell her anyway ´No` and that she would rather burn her fingers on him. But wasn´t she raised with the thought that no one is born evil? She only scratched the surface, he only showed her one piece of the puzzle, but it was enough to imagine the awful childhood Armitage had. Abused by his own father day in and day out, only always surrounded by imperials and brainwashed before he could even properly think. Into what else should he have grown than the First Orders most feverish and favourite General? Than murdering his own father? Who can tell if she or anyone else in the Resistance wouldn´t have done the same in his situation? A dog may be loyal, but he will bite back once he has been beaten too often.   
He puts on a cap, hiding his hair beneath it and drawing a shadow over his face, disguises as a delivery guy. He probably caught the present send by the General and brought it into here.   
“Take them,” she nods at the box of chocolate, “I have no problem getting them at all, but you have bigger trouble to get your hands on some fine chocolate.”   
A boyish smile spreads over his face. “Thanks, princess. Greetings to Hugs, thank him for the chocolate from me. It´s really delicious.”  
“I will...” She watches the pilot take his leave, vanishing out of her wardrobe and only with the door closed she lets out a sigh and drops onto the sofa. A small smile spreads over her lips as she takes the card and second box, holding both close. It was a real card, with a neatly handwriting…

“Some of the troops, Sir-”  
“I am sure you mean, officers, Sir. The troops never concern over anything except their blasters and armour. The ATAT´s and the dessert in the mass at the most...”  
“Sure, Sir.”  
“Continue.” A gesture with his hand signals the Major to go on. He and some officers finished just a briefing and one of them leaned forward to voice the concern some of them were sharing towards the General.  
“Well… some of us are highly… concerned that...”  
“Speak clearly, I have better things to do.” He sounds bored and annoyed. They are done with the briefing, no questions left open. Every minute he stays there is a wasted minute.   
“Like Coruscants Primadonna,” another officer threw in.   
He straightens in his seat, from crossing his legs he puts now both feet onto the ground. “Excuse me?”  
“For the last months,” the one newly threw himself into the discussion takes out a datapad, lighting up the screen, “you, Sir, have been absent for up to three evenings, in the last five weeks through the whole night in such a case. Just two weeks ago it had been 5 days in a row where you left the command over to Captain Peavey, though he didn´t seemed to mind, the contrary. 3.700 credits alone for a booth at the Opera every month, a single bouquet of Tellanadan Moonflowers costs on Coruscant 600 credits, a bracelet over 7000 credits, a set worth 12.000 credits, more bouquets, more jewellery, more gimcrackery...”  
“I can´t remember to give you permission to speak, Major Pieweto.” The voice icy and just as sharp like a vibro knife. “And I can´t remember to give you permission to take care of my bills.” His protocol droid must have thought these were work expanses and no private matter… “Not to speak of where and with whom I spend my time being off duty. Are you a grown man, Pieweto, or do I need to take you by the hand that you require the presence of my person every hour of the day and night? It is my very own personal money. And I spend it how I think of it as proper. I can´t remember either that I was told to ask you before I do so, Pieweto. Can you? Can you remember a direct order from the Surpreme Leader that I should ask your permission before I spend my very own, very personal money?” He leans forwards, one arm rests on the table. “You seem to forget, Pieweto,” he makes sure to drip as much poison into this name as possible, “that without me, without me spending my own money on a woman, none of you sitting here, none on the bridge, none in the hangar, none on the training decks, none in the machinery rooms… none of you would have seen a loan in months. You think the Order runs on this silly Force?! You think someone dropped a bag of credits in front of our door? Not even the Surpreme Leader can put enough fear into an arm dealer that he wouldn´t charge us with credits! The supporters, the donations, our proponents we all got through Coruscants Primadonna. Her audience is huge, from Senate member to politicians to Princes and Lords. Even in the lowest levels of Coruscant City she has fans, admirers. They see that the highest ranked General of the First Order surrounds her, so they think she supports the Order and of course they all crawl to her feet only to impress her, of course they start to give their money to us. A little propaganda here and there, putting the focus onto our training program of the following generation, how very generous we are – children are our future at last – and they think they do something good with their money. Or would you rather sacrifice your very own money for our cause, Pieweto? Every small credit? I sacrifice a lot for the Order, Pieweto. What are you willed to sacrifice?” He keeps the silence up for a moment longer. “You and who else, Pieweto?”  
“Sir…”  
“You. And which other officers, Pieweto?” The look the Major throws to his comrades is enough for him. “You are all demoted with immediate effect. Hopefully that´ll teach you, Captain, that the private life of your General is indeed a private matter and nothing for you to look up only because you seem to be bored. If you are bored indeed then maybe I advise you to help the staff that cleans the sanitary facilities. My private matters are in no way interfering with the Order, just so you won´t be concerned in the future, Captain.” He rises from his seat and takes his datapad leaving the briefing room and making his way to his private quarters, there are still two more hours until his shift on the bridge starts and tends to spend them with more pleasurable things than the incompetence of his subordinates.

Two more weeks passed by where they only saw each other through a holo or heard each other through a com message. Still on every evening he misses a show of hers is a bouquet or other small present waiting for her in her wardrobe, always a small handwritten note attached to it. The other days it´s delivered to her apartment.   
Sure, he can´t give her in the slightest the feeling that he would abandon her. Not now. Not when she´s about to sing in Canto Bight where no one knows what to do with all the money going around there. That´s why she receives all those gifts and calls. To tell her how very sorry he is that he can´t be with her. To make up for his absence where it became a routine and so very ordinary that he sits in his booth and watching her on stage when she has a show. But… he also likes to hear her voice. Just hearing her talking, even when it´s only silly gossip, he doesn´t care. He recognised it himself and there is nothing he can do about it. He feels a smile growing on his face every time he hears her voice directed at him. Then he starts to feel warm and simply… comfortable like a Loth-Cat in front of a fire place. He is actually thankful how uncomplicated she is. No word of dismay, of disappointment, no complain. She knows that the Order comes before everything else, she learned to know him as the General and knows the burden that comes with that title by now. He never promised her anything and she never promised him anything. Lovers. They are just, simply lovers…

It was way past midnight as Amelia opened the door to her apartment and immediately she felt something was off. It may be probably through the pair of boots standing by the door she didn´t expected and almost stumbled over. She stood there for a moment and simply staring in the dark at the boots. Only faint lights from the outside leaving their tracks. Tearing herself out of her trance she closes the door, taking off her own shoes. Carelessly putting her bag on a rack and letting her feet carrying her into the bedroom where she finds no sign of him but expected him when he obviously planned a surprise visit but found her returning became later and later and maybe he would have withdrawn himself to bed by now. He told her nothing about visiting her… The contrary. He said he would be buried beneath work and won´t be able to attend any of her shows for the next time. It´s also Leelas day off, no wonder that she couldn´t tell her about the sudden visitor. With knitted brows she goes back, scanning the living area, her heart already started to pound a bit faster, ignoring the excited feeling that settles in her chest. With a smile she found him.   
On the sofa, still sitting but arms crossed in front of the chest and his chin resting on it, asleep. Slowly and carefully she sits down next to him. She throws a glance to her holovision and sees it on standby. She smirks with the picture in her mind that he spends the time waiting for her with news or even with a silly holoshow. Only with the back of her fingers she strokes over his sideburn. She recognised that he started to simply comb his hair back, wearing a charming side parting, and not slicking it back so severe like before, admitting the volume his hair actually has.   
With a sudden jerk he wakes up, sitting straight and out of reflex he reaches for his blaster but relaxes again as he sees her. “Oh…”  
It sounds so innocent, so boyish…  
“You´re already here.”  
“I’m sorry for waking you up but I thought a bed would be more comfortable than the sofa,” she smiles. “Why didn´t you told me you would come? If I would´ve known… Our Tenor celebrated his engagement. I would have left earlier if you told me.”  
“But in such a case it wouldn´t be a surprise anymore,” he smiles sheepishly still sleep deprived. “Don´t worry. I entertained myself.” He nods at the Holovision. “You really watch ‘A Galaxy of passion’,” he asks with a raised brow. “It was programmed,” he explained with the questioning look on her.  
A low laugh. “It´s not that bad. You should give it a try.”  
“I did… but no. Two women called each other slurs for ten minutes because one stole the other one the husband and the one who owns the company almost bedded his own daughter, not knowing it was his daughter but she did and wanted something to blackmail him with so h writes the company over into her custody because as illegitimate child she has no right to his heritage.”  
“Wow, you really watched that episode.”  
“How can you watch this nonsense?”  
“You watched it yourself,” she smirks. “But why are you here? I thought you´d be busy for weeks?”  
“I´ll have to leave in the morning again but for the night…” He smiles and leans in, stops with her finger on his lips.   
“You´re tired, my dear. It´s almost two in the morning and I want to get rid of the dress.”  
“As a gentleman it is my duty to help with these.”  
Again a small laugh. “Let´s get to bed, shall we? Life is exhausting for all of us…” She rises and takes him by the hand, drawing him with her into the bedroom.   
“Have you accepted the offer of the Canto Bight Casino?” He opens the zipper of her dress on the back as she asks him to before unclasps his own uniform.   
With a wide smile she turns towards him. “I did. In less than two month the great Amelia Alandale will sing in the Canto Bight Casino for a single night. They already sold every single ticket. Within fifteen minutes after the tickets went for sale all were sold out.” She goes over to her nightstand, opening a drawer.  
“I would lie if I would say I wouldn´t be proud of you. – Oh, there it went.” A sly smirk settles on his lips as she hands him one of is very own shirts he wore underneath the uniform but missed as he returned the last time from her.   
She shrugs with her shoulders and a small pout of her lips. “I am sorry if you missed it but…”  
“Keep it,” he whispers, bending down and closes the distance between their lips. “We are not running low on shirts.”  
“It smells like you,” she says as excuse.   
“It smells like me,” he asks amused.   
She turns her back to him again, pulling again something out of the drawer. Still he could see the faint blush on her cheeks in the dim light of the bedroom. “I like to sleep in it,” she admits.  
“I think it would only be fair if I would get something of yours in that case, don´t you think?”  
“You want to sleep in one of my nightshirts?”  
He rolls with his eyes. “If it would please you and belongs to a kink of yours I haven´t discovered yet I would do so but unless…”   
With a smirk she slaps softly a holocard against his chest. “First, this is your ticket for the Casino. It´ll be exchanged to a pin you´ll wear visibly, telling every single one in Canto Bight that you are a very, very important person and my honourable guest.” She goes on tiptoes and whispers into his ear: “Your suite will be next to mine, connected through a door.”  
“How very cunning you are,” he grins, “Sure you don´t want to work for the First Order?” He places a hand around hers holding the card. “We need women like you.”  
“You mean, you need me.”  
“That too.”  
“And the other thing… Wait until you leave. Then you´ll find something in your pocket from me for the dull nights you´re off duty,” she winks.  
“So very naughty,” he murmurs, still close to her lips, “Do I need to punish you?”  
“What we both need is a good night sleep, my dear. Everything else can come in the morning.” She places a chaste kiss onto the corner of his lips. “Don´t pout at me, Armitage, you can hardly keep your eyes open, you fallen asleep on the sofa… Sleep it is for now, you need it.”  
“Yes, Ma´am,” he sighs and puts on the shirt, getting rid of every other piece of fabric not suitable for the bed. It all feels so familiar. The bed, the covers, the blanket, the pillow… all feels so familiar in a good way. As soon as he lies back he feels his body relaxing immediately, his eyes falling shut and drifting into sleep. He barely feels her snuggling closer to him, entwining her fingers with his accompanied by a faint murmur of her. Or he is just too exhausted and imagines it. It wouldn´t be the first time that he imagined her murmuring something at him almost asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the Kudos :)  
> Comments are appreciated. :)


	13. You´ve got me

Three days. At least three days, he thinks while letting his bag dropping next to the bed. He can´t complain about the suite though. It offers all luxuries one can imagine and wish for, yet it is a bit too much pomp for his personal taste. The Canto Casino Hotel really knows how to do things in style… He smirks thinking about that she got this one for free too, with him being her honourable guest. Honourable guest, he smirks. He doesn´t care about Canto Bight, the Casino, not even this much about her concert. But he will finally sleep again. He will finally be able to sleep straight for ours again. Every night he spent with her he was able to have a quiet, peaceful sleep, sleeping through for hours. He doesn´t know why, if she put something into his drink of if she´s force sensitive (no, that would be ridiculous) or if it is her presence alone or whatever… whatever it is. He can rest at last. If he´s honest, he can´t wait to feel her fingers in his hair again, closing his eyes and falling asleep.  
“Kriff,” slips him as he shot a glance into a mirror. Even more pale than usual, dark circles under his eyes… He pinches the bridge of his nose, gliding with his hand over his face and rubbing his eyes. He checks the time on his chrono. One hour until her ship will arrive at the spaceport plus, he guesses at least 15 more minutes until she will be in the hotel. Maybe he should use that time to get a short nap to look pleasingly in her eyes and not as if Ren would drain him from all his energy for the last two years. 

He wakes up as he feels, noticing something constantly stroking through his hair. His first impulse would be usually to jolt up and reaching for his blaster but… what kind of enemy wouldn´t shoot him while he is asleep and instead waking him by stroking gently, lovingly, through his hair? Right, no one.  
Slowly he opens his eyes, blinking a few times before his eyes got used to the light again and a smile spreads over his face. A sleepy one but still a smile.  
An angel sitting on the edge of the bed, her fingers lovingly gliding through his hair with just the most beautiful smile he ever saw. Peaceful. That´s how he feels right now. Just peaceful. And right away he wonders how he could have missed the alarm he settled for not oversleeping her arrival.  
“You are already here.” He scolds himself mentally and blames it on his still sleeping brain. He usually has smarter things lying on his tongue than simply stating the obvious.  
“I only arrived a few minutes ago. You slept so peacefully, I couldn´t bring myself to wake you up.”  
“You didn´t, don´t worry… You got in here?”  
She holds up a card key with the number of his suite written on it. “I always get what I want,” she smirks, bending down.  
“Well… you´ve got me.” Only a moment too late he realizes what he said, taking a deep breath and ignoring the warmth creeping up his cheeks, telling him that they are definitely blushed. He must be too tired, too exhausted. He doesn´t know how else by all the stars it could have slipped him. They are lovers. Nothing more. Nothing that binds them to each other, no feelings involved. Desire, lust, need, a bit greed, arrogance, pride… They satisfy each others needs, he uses her for advantages, she uses him for advantages (what can be more powerful than saying to have the First Orders General as friend?). It´s all about money, power and getting to know the right people. He doesn´t even have the time for something deeper, for more. Despite the fact that he obviously only gets a healthy rest and the right amount of sleep with her at his side. Despite how good it actually feels. Despite that he treasures the calm and peaceful moments at her side when he can shove everything else aside, forgetting everything else for a few moments, even his own demons. Or how much he likes to talk with her, or simply looking at her, her voice, when he makes her laughing…  
“I´ve got you,” she whispers. Her smirk grows into a smile filled with affection. Her hand resting on his cheek.  
Another deep breath. It seems to please her… “If you want me.”  
A low laugh “How, by all the stars, could I deny your offer?” She ignores the small jump her heart does. “Of course I want you.” She presses her lips against his cheek. “You are trained and drilled so good, you listen to every one of my commands,” she giggles and snuggles closer to him, making him laughing.  
He puts his arms around her, holding her close. “You only have the dinner in the evening?”  
“Yes, with the owner of the Casino, the owner of the hotel and a few others very rich and very prominent constant guests here. Nothing else for the whole day. You´ll accompany me of course. You can make new friends. Mister Zsuk, the owner of the Casino, was already very delighted as I informed him of you being my honourable guest.”  
“Sounds good.”  
“And tomorrow I´ll be occupied from the earlier afternoon on. Hair and make-up, jewellery, dress, the sound check,” she sighs.  
“Would you like to spend the day in bed...”  
“I´ve got the Emperor Suite, the most luxury suite they have to offer. My bed is bigger.”  
With a smirk he continues. “Or would you rather take a look at the Casino, the shopping concourse, taking a meal in one of the restaurant? Or do you want to watch the racetracks? The Piazza, the beach...”  
“The beach sounds nice… It has been ages since I took a walk at a beach. And then we can look if anything those restaurants have to offer is to our taste… or we simply take use of the room service.” She looks up to him with a coy smile.

“Ori'vod?”  
“Elek?” She responds in a hushed whisper.  
“How was the walk at the beach? Pale face didn´t seem to be this fond of sand and water.”  
“´Pale face` has a name di'kut.”  
“Oh wow… he must be an incredible shag when you defend him now.”  
“You really want to now, shabuir?”  
“Eh… no. I want to keep my appetite. What are you planning now?”  
“We are refreshing now, taking a snack in one of the restaurants, planning afterwards to spend a bit time in my suite and then going to the fancy dinner. You two will have a table close by. It´s reserved under the name Aliit.”  
“Aaw… ori'vod… I knew you don´t really hate us.”  
“You´re my vode, of course I don´t hate you… you´re only annoying. Don´t waste your credits on the slot machines.”  
“I would never.”  
She can hear a faint 'I would' in the background and sighs, pressing her earring and shuts the communication down.  
“Are you ready, my dear?” She hears his voice after a short knock against the door.  
“You should know me well enough by now,” she smiles with opening the door. “I am always ready for you.”  
“And you know well enough by now what I like to hear,” he responds with a smirk, closing his eyes and welcomes her lips on his own. “Would you like a walk through the Casino,” he whispers against her lips.  
“You only want to show off with me on your arm,” she laughs lowly.  
“I see, I need to be more cautious… you know me too well by now,” he smirks.  
“You make it sound like it´s a bad thing.”  
His smirks widens. “No… not with you.”

He would lie if he would say he doesn´t enjoys the glances he receives with her walking at his side. She, looking gorgeous like always, holding onto his arm. His smile could be described as arrogant, smug. Who wouldn´t in his place? Of course, it fills him somewhere with simple manly pride. She could have every single man in the Galaxy, he doubts there would be many saying no to her. And she accepted him. With only a single bouquet of Tellanadan moonflowers…  
Blaster shots are to be heard suddenly. Not the little sounds of those from the local security and police. Blaster shots from heavier guns. Everything seems to happen at the same time. He shoves her behind him, shielding her, drawing his own blaster and speaks into the com while panic crawls from the entrance up to where they are. People are running away from the entrance, screams and shouts of panic and fears mingled with the smell of burned fabrics, cast-plast and ozone fills the air.  
“Phasma! What is going on here?!” It unnerves him to only hear the shots in the distance but not seeing the cause of the panic and shots, who is responsible for them.  
“One moment, Sir. I am logging myself into their security system right now.”  
He couldn´t hear blaster shots or detonations through the com, so she must be somewhere else. Though her voice stayed emotionless and rational like always he could hear the faint clanking sound of chromium, hinting him that she is in movement and ´logging in` is her term for simply slicing her way into the system, getting a grip onto the security cams.  
“This so-called security did a lousy job…”  
“Rebels, Sir. Terrorists. They are making their way through the Casino.”  
“All this money and yet they can´t afford a proper police force…”  
“To… staircase… right… de…”  
“Phasma? Phasma! – Captain!... Kriffing… They shut down the communication,” he murmurs.  
Of course he Captain accompanies him, she things. Though she hasn´t seen her so far, neither did he spoke of her, but she should have known. “Armitage?”  
The blaster shots are coming closer, he turns around to her. “Don´t worry,” with a smile that should reassure her, telling her that she is safe with him, that all will be fine and with a calmness in his voice she admires him for. “You´re safe with me, all will be over in a few moments, you´ll see, all will be fine.” He scans his surrounding while putting his free hand onto her back. People are still running for the backrooms, the private rooms and the staircases and elevators that lead up to the hotel, to one of the restaurants, just away and out of the Casino. Tables and chairs are thrown over, some cower behind these… “Come, I´ll get you out of here. Just some rebel punks, barely grown up. I dealt with worse, my dear, it´ll all be over in a few minutes.”  
The staircase to the right, that much he understood from his Captain before the communication broke off.  
He seems so calm, she thinks. Like the steady rock in a wild sea. It´s probably the drill, the training that kicks in, practised such situations in simulations repeatedly, a hundred times since his childhood, the logical, tactical thinking. Only the tensed muscles of his jaw are betraying him, telling her that he isn´t as calm as he seems. Her next thought wonders why the Resistance would attack the Canto Casino knowing well that she will be there. A terrorist attack by the Resistance? Unlikely. Shooting their way through the Casino to get money? Not their style. They would do neither of this. With brushing a strand of her hair back she activates the hidden device in her earring, hoping they will be smart enough on the other end to only listen and not trying to talk to her. Knowing too that they don´t use an official channel.  
Before they could reach the staircase, an explosion shook the ground, coming from the staircase. Kriff! That was not the exit, his Captain tried to tell him. She tried to warn him that they were also coming from that staircase with detonators. She is truly surprised that he shields her with his own body with the explosion, causing rubble flying around and debris falling from the ceiling. The air fills with heat, smoke, ashes and dust. Fire drill sirens, evacuation sirens sounding. Neither she nor he are hit by any rubble but over his shoulder she can see a figure emerging from the cloud of dust.  
“Armitage! Behind you!” But the warning comes too late.  
Right in the movement of turning around the handle of a blaster riffle is smashed into his forehead, making him stumble backwards, his own blaster is torn out of his hand at the same time and she is torn from his other hand. Out of the corner if the eyes she sees him struggling with his attacker but a moment later he flings the intruder unconscious onto the ground, taking his blaster back into his possession. He freezes as he rises and aims.  
“Go on, General. Do it and the little singing bird will be silenced forever. But since when does the Order care for anyone except themselves?”  
One arm holds her tight, the other hand keeps a blaster pointed at her temple.  
“Let her go, rebel scum.”  
“And then? You shoot me? I am no idiot trooper of yours, that´s not how it works.”  
She doesn´t know that face, never saw it before. She can´t tell if he truly belongs to the Resistance or not.  
“If you want money, go ahead. There is enough of it here and no one will stop you taking it, if you let her go.”  
“Oh no, General. It´s about so much more than simply the money. You took liberty and freedom from this Galaxy. You kidnap children and brainwash them into cold numbers, into mindless troopers, into murderers. You slaughter those who dare to speak up against your regime of terror, your sick Surpreme Leader.”  
It became strangely quiet around them. Only a small whining here, a little whimper there. He is sure that Phasma right now figures a way out to keep the communication going again and making her way down here. “You can´t win this. You think you´ll get out alive?”  
“Sure. I´ll take Coruscants pretty angel with me and then we´ll negotiate. Try something funny and I´ll shoot her.”  
“I´ll shoot you anyway. It´ll be only more painful when you harm her.”  
“Armitage, please…” She holds a hand out to him, signing him to stop as he takes a step towards her and her obviously kidnapper. “It´s alright. I´ll go with you, willingly. But leave these people in peace.”  
“They are all guilty.”  
“That´s the deal. This or I´ll ask the General to shoot you through me. I wouldn´t mind. I am sure he´s an excellent shooter.”  
He steps closer anyway, stopping right in front of her. Knowing the intruder is too much of a coward, wouldn´t shoot her right now. Then he had nothing in his hands that would keep him from killing him in the most painful way he had been taught. He presses the muzzle of his blaster against her right shoulder, just an inch above her collar bone. He keeps his eyes locked with hers, reading in hers that she is completely serious. “It would leave a scar she can be proud of…” He looks at him. “But it would definitely tear your lungs apart and you would bleed to death. Suffocating on your own blood.”  
A moment later he signalises his comrades to stop aiming at the other guests and to follow him.  
She can throw one last glance at Armitage before she is dragged away by the leader of the intruders, knowing very well that the General won´t stay and wait.  
Said General keeps his blaster aimed at the leader of the pack of scum as she is dragged with him, vanishing through a door in the back. The sound of a shot and frizzing electronic tells him that they destroyed the door panel, making sure that he can´t follow them. What for amateurs…  
“Phasma,” he asks into his com. Maybe she found a way around…  
“They are heading for the vault, Sir.”  
He is relieved to hear her voice.  
“They probably think they are safe there. Bloody beginners…”  
“Call for reinforcements, on my order. I want heavy weaponry. I want the Skull Squadron. This scum should regret the day they were born. They came here by a ship. I want to know the type and where they landed it, I want it destroyed, I want it melted into a puddle of durasteel.”  
“Yes, Sir.”  
He looks around, scanning shortly the crowd. “And call for medical help.” A few wounded, some in shock, some helping each other but most hide behind thrown over gaming tables and the bars. “I want to speak with the head of the security,” he shouts. Out of the corner of the eye he sees a hand rising with hesitation. With strong, determined steps he approaches the owner of the hand. The urge to punch this man was immense but he doesn´t need more unconscious and wounded people. “How could this have been possible? Tell me,” he looks at the name plate, “Mister Setos,” he failed in his position, he hasn´t earned to be spoken at with the title of Captain his insignia of ranks giving away he has. “how was it possible that these terrorists could land a ship full of detonators and blasters, devices to kill off the communication, at the docking bays and none of you was suspicious? How could this scum, armed like this could have even come close to the Casino, not to speak of entering it, without anybody of you recognising it and doing something about it? Are those cams only for decoration? Are your blasters only toys?” He is proud of himself to have himself so much under control that he still can speak calmly despite how high the urge is to scream at this man. To yell him into the ground and showing him what blasters are for. But the low and calm tone in his voice makes his words sounding even more threatening.  
“S-Sir, I-“ A gesture of the General makes him shutting up.  
“I should shoot you right on the spot for your incompetence, for doing such a lousy job, your failure put people into danger,” he hisses. “But we´re not wild creatures and better than this scum. You and your men take these people out of here and make sure they get the medical help they need. That´s an order.”  
“Yes, Sir!”  
He himself has to free a hostage. His com slightly vibrates, and he opens the file his Captain send him. The plan of the Casino, the way to the vault already marked.  
“Sir?”  
“Captain.”  
“Master Ren and his knights are close by and can be here for aid within five minutes.”  
“For what? That they perform some silly magic tricks? I want the Skull Squadron, Phasma!”  
“They are closest by, Sir, and Lady Alandale can be freed in ten minutes. The Skull Squadron needs even per hyperspace twenty minutes alone to arrive here.”  
He puts the com on silence and sighs in frustration. “Wonder what this kriffin bastard has to do in Canto Bight,” he murmurs, turning on the com again. “Send him the coordinates and the way to the vault, I´m waiting there.”  
“Yes, Sir.”  
He makes his way down, not encountering any of those criminals. Truly bloody beginners. Professionals would have left some behind to slow him down.

She stumbles as she is pushed forward into a room that reminds her of the cooling chamber of a morgue. “I don´t know what you try to achieve with this. By now reinforcements will be on their way. They´ll shoot you if you´re lucky. And if not the First Order is going to take an example on you. A big trail for the show and then no one will hear from you again.”  
“How well informed you are about the methods of the First Order, your royal highness.”  
She stiffens, almost freezes for a second. The others had been sent further to take care of the door that keeps them from all the treasures the Casino holds. They are alone in this chamber. “Are you from the Resistance?”  
“I had been. But does the Resistance take actions? As much as the New Republic does.”  
“They have their spies.”  
“You should know best, uh?”  
“It´s about diplomacy and politics. You can´t simply rush into a war with an organisation that only speaks against the ruling system.”  
“They can, they just don´t simply want to.”  
“You don´t understand,” she shakes her head.  
“I understand very well, your royal highness! Maybe you don’t, maybe you grew too fond of the First Order between your legs, milady? That´s the problem with the rich and royal ones. They fear so much for their treasures and positions that they rather shut up than doing anything, so they stay with those who are promising them more treasures. Those earrings look nice, a gift from the First Order?”  
“You have no idea how spies operate, how they work.”  
“I know too well, milady. The New Republic still doesn´t take actions, you must be busier with a First Orders cock than gaining information’s.”  
“To gain information’s you need to build trust.”  
“And you gain it best with prostitution, sure.”  
She gets really angry by now, how he speaks with her, flinging around his rifle in all directions and still pointing it at her from time to time, his slurs, that he simply doesn´t want to understand…  
“I can understand that you maybe, some others, are frustrated by now. But do you think storming in here and shooting people down makes it better? Taking me as a hostage? Provoking the First Orders most prominent General? Acting like terrorists would put the Resistance in a good light? I´ll tell what will happen. Right now, the General already called for support. A special Ops squadron will be on their way, maybe even their mysterious Force wielder will be. He makes sure that the people are be taken out of here, that they get medical help. He is putting the Order into a good light. You know how that looks what you´re doing? You make the Resistance and all Rebels looking like terrorists. Blowing half a Casino up, shooting people, gladly taking in causalities, taking me as a hostage, who knows what you´ll do to me? With this scenario you achieve the opposite of what you want. General Organa needs supporters and money and you draw them away from her and into the arms of the Order with that.” 

Would he have to deal with professionals, he would have been suspicious by how easy it was to reach the vault with no one and nothing stopping him or slowing him down. Now he knows that it was only pure luck that they could land at the docking bays undetected.  
Instead of worrying about Amelias welfare he busied himself with checking the door for any weakness. If he would worry about her welfare and all possibilities they could do to her right now he would shoot all energy cells, he carries with him, empty until the door is nothing more than melted duraplast and then all would go down all nine corellian hells. That´s more Ren´s style but not his.  
“Phasma, can you hear me?”  
“I can´t see her, Sir. There are no cams inside the vault. But I can see some of them trying to break the code to the actual vault with the worthy stuff. They are 12 by the number, 14 if it´s only their leader and Lady Alandale in the first room.”  
Where is she, he wonders until a moment later it dawns on him and he looks up to the ceiling. A small smile plays around his lips. The ventilation shafts. For sure the vault needs to be kept in a constant temperature for it contains not only gold and jewels but pieces of art as well. It´s probably where they want to flee and now his Captain is hiding in, watching them. If he keeps them busy in the front than she can sneak in and…  
“Maybe we don´t need Ren and his Girl Gang.”  
“Too late.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always: Thanks for the kudos and comments are appreciated :)
> 
> Ori'vod - Big sister/brother  
> Elek - Yes  
> Di'kut - Idiot  
> Shabuir - Jerk  
> Aliit - Family  
> Vode - Brothers/sisters
> 
> The Skull Squadron is completely made up by me.


	14. Your are safe now

He turns around and does not hide his disappointment that the Force wielders arrived. This ridiculous mask with the voice modulator and behind him six smaller figures all too from head to toe in black robes but everyone with an individual mask. By the stars, how much he hates force users, nothing more than cheap magic tricks…  
“I can hear your thoughts.”  
“Good.”  
“And yet you need my help to get your little girlfriend back.” The Master of the Knights of Ren crosses his arms in front of his chest.  
He can almost see the smug grin on his face behind the mask, hears it in the voice. He rolls with his eyes. “Do your magic tricks and we can go on with our business within two minutes.”  
“It´s not magic.”  
“Yeah… whatever.” He can almost hear him gritting his teeth. “Inside are Lady Alandale, their hostage, plus 12 of those terrorists. Captain Phasma watches them trying to break the code to the actual vault, hiding in the ventilation shafts. We only need to keep their leader busy, so the Captain can sneak in.”   
The Knights are putting their heads together, without saying a word they seem to discuss something, and their leader looks slightly over his shoulder at them. “Taska Ren?”  
Addressed one steps forwards, closer to the door and kneels, a hand resting on the duraplast. “Several rifles, more blasters, old models. Detonators…”  
“How is she?”  
“She is fine. Not hurt. But frustrated and mad. I can sense no fear in her. No. But… defiance?”  
“Stop talking and do something!”  
“Is it true that you´re dating Lady Alandale of Coruscant? From the Coruscant Opera? The Opera singer? Coruscants Angel?”  
All eyes are turning to that one Knight.   
He sighs. How useful might it be to lie to Force users? “…Yes.”  
“I´ve told you! I knew it, you owe me five credits!”  
“By the stars she is so beautiful!”  
“I can´t believe we are going to safe her! Just imagine!”  
He clenches his fists, it takes only two steps and he tears the lightsabre from one of their belts and activates it, rising his arm and ready to cut a hole in the door. Three of the Knights rush forwards, keeping the General from doing so.   
“General! Sir! You can´t do this!”  
“You put Lady Alandale in grave danger!”

She hears a faint clicking sound coming from the door. A glance to her captor tells her that he didn´t hear it. Did the reinforcement arrived? Are they opening the door?  
“How far are you?”  
“Almost! Two more locks!”  
“Hurry up!”  
One of the others appears in the door to the anteroom. “How do you even plan to get out again? This,” he points to the door in her back, “is the only entrance and exit, the whole Casino will be surrounded by now. Not by Police force, no, but by the kriffing First Order! By military forces! You hold a famous Opera singer hostage who is a friend of the kriffing First Order, the whole kriffing building will be surrounded by Stormtroopers!”  
“How kriffing stupid are you… Look up. The ventilator shafts. We escape through them. Through these we can escape to all directions. They won´t think of that…”  
She hears another faint clicking sound and he obviously too for he turned his head towards the door. She stomps with her heel onto the floor, copying the clicking sound. “I need to walk around… It´s pretty stressing for my feet to only stand around in these shoes. Ever wore such heels?”   
A grumbling sound is all she gets from him but he doesn´t give the door much attention now.   
It all happened within seconds. A cheer as they finally broke the last code to the vault that is followed by voices yelling and screaming, blaster shots, metallic, crackling sounds and the door rattles as if it shocked by a heavy impact.  
He grabs her tight by the arm, gaze drifting from the vault itself to the door.   
She takes her chance, kicks into the side of his knee and draws his blaster that´s lazy tucked into his belt, pointing the muzzle against his chest as he is distracted by the pain in the knee.   
“I am sorry,” she whispers, “but no one can know of my identity. If they capture you alive, you´re a risk to our mission.” Right after she pulled the trigger he drops to the ground like a puppet which strings had been cut. At the same time the door is pushed open, out of the corner of her eyes, gaze still fixed onto the dead body to her feet, she sees Armitage entering, followed by a bunch of black robes and Phasma coming in from the other room. She still aims the blaster at her kidnapper.   
“My dear… my dearest darling...” Slowly he approaches her, carefully putting his hands around hers and softly loosening her grip around the blaster, taking the gun and giving it over to his Captain. Only then he pulls her into his arms and holding her tight. She must be clearly under shock. He was a little bit himself, mixed with pride that she indeed killed her kidnapper on her own with one clear shot. “Everything is alright now. You are safe now, I am here, my dear,” he soothes her, rocking her slightly in his arms.  
“All terrorists are dead,” confirms Phasma with a look at him.  
He only nods, continues to sooth her and calming himself down too at the same time. Relieved to have her back in his arms, well and alive.  
She closes her eyes, sighing. She needs to remind herself to play someone who has killed for the first time for self-defence. She needs to be at least a bit under shock. Swooning would be too much. He knows she´s not the kind who would swoon.   
“Are you hurt? Did he harm you? Have they done anything to you?”  
“In those five minutes that passed only? No. I am alright.”  
“Really?” He puts a finger underneath her chin, lifting her head until she looks at him.  
Is that worry she can read in his face? In his eyes? Was he worried about her? Truly… worried?  
He takes off his coat and puts it over her shoulders.  
Several clicking and hushing sounds are to be heard before they turn into a small concert of whispers.  
“She is real!”  
“She is even more beautiful in real!”  
“I´ve heard she can sing ten octaves high!  
“Stupid! Where did you hear that? No humanoid being can sing this high, it´s impossible for humanoid vocal chords.”  
“She looks absolutely gorgeous in that dress…”  
“She looks absolutely gorgeous in everything.”  
“Do you think she would…”  
“Shut it, Jendi! She was just taken as a hostage!”  
All six of them shut up and looking down onto the floor with a single masked glance of their master.  
Them fanning over the Generals girlfriend is the last thing he needs.  
“I am fine, really.”  
“You´re under shock, understandable, don´t look at it,” he advises her as he leads her out of the room, passing the corpse and blocking her view onto it with his own body.   
“Now or never,” he hears a whisper in his back.  
“Lady Alandale? Miss Amelia? Miss-Lady Amelia Alandale?”  
They both stop and turn around.  
“We are deeply sorry… No. – We are utterly happy – No. We are deeply honoured…”  
“Would it be too bold to ask for a holopic? Please? We are all big fans of you! Your voice is just amazing!”  
All six of the young women, from different species, wearing a big smile on their faces. She assumes they are a special force? Those Knights of Ren and the tall black one with the mask still on is their master Kylo Ren, he sometimes talks about in pure annoyance?   
“How dare you? That is the epitome of dis…” The General stops as she puts a hand on his arm.   
“It´s alright, Armitage. I am okay. I am completely fine.” She turns towards the young women. “It would be a pleasure. It´s the last thing I could do for thanking you in aiding to free me and ending this cruel episode these terrible people started.”  
With his face screaming of displease he takes the datapad that´s pushed into his hands by one of the young ones and watching those Knights gathering around her, all wearing a big smile. He would like nothing more than taking her out of here, into her suite and making sure she forgets these past minutes. She is surely under shock. Everybody copes different with it, he knows too well but this… With displease, it is probably the only time that he and Ren are on the same side, he takes the holopic.   
“Thank you so very much, Miss Alandale!”  
“No, no, I have to thank you, all of you!” One after the other she takes their hands into hers. “Without you I would probably be still in there.”  
He steps closer again, putting his hands gently onto her shoulders. “My dear, you need to rest. If you excuse us? Miss Alandale just had been holding hostage and got rid of her kidnapper on her own.” 

“Do you need anything?”  
“I am alright, Armitage.”  
“You don´t need to act brave in front of me,” he smiles. Right after they left the vault he brought her into her suite, sitting her down on the bed and ordered that no one disturbs her. “I´ll go and cancel the dinner.”  
“No, I´ll have that dinner.”  
“My dear, you have a shock, it´s understandable, you…”  
“I´ll go to the dinner tonight and I´ll have that concert tomorrow. I am overwhelmed that you worry and care for me, for my well-being, but I know best what is good for me.”  
He sighs and sits down next to her. “It´s the rush of adrenaline. It´ll slowly fade away and leaves you tired and exhausted, trust me. You just have been holding hostage, someone pointed a blaster at you and you shot said someone. This is for sure traumatizing, even in self-defence.”  
“How do you want to know that it was my first time I shot someone?”  
He looks at her for her a moment before he laughs lowly. “And some try to get over it with humour. Amelia, you need a good rest now. I´ll send for a medic so he can give you something to sleep.” He rises again and before she could reply anything, it was knocking against the door of the suite. With displease written over all of his face he goes to answer the door with her on his heels.  
“Mister Zsuk…” The owner of the Casino. “I thought I was pretty clear as I said that Miss Alandale doesn´t want to be disturbed.” He looks at her slightly irritated as she simply shoves him aside and steps into the doorway.  
“I am so very sorry to disturb you, Milady. Of course, you need your rest, but I needed to make sure on my own that you´re alright. I would have never forgiven myself if anything would have happened to you under my roof!”  
“I am alright Mister Zsuk, you don´t need to worry. My friend here has just yet to learn that I am no delicate flower, no little damsel in distress. I will attend the dinner tonight, I would regret it otherwise deeply.”  
“I am so very sorry for what happened! Be sure that there will be consequences and those responsible for the lack in security will have to face punishment. If you need anything, don´t hesitate to ask for it.”  
“Actually… If it wouldn´t be too bold to as, I would like to welcome Sir Ren and his Knights at our table tonight and on my concert tomorrow. They helped to free me, it´s the last thing I could do to thank them.” Out of the corner of her eyes she sees him rolling his eyes with an expression of pure anger and annoyance on his face.   
“Of course, Milady, that will be no problem at all!”  
“Thank you so very much.” She smiles with a hand resting on her chest, right above her heart.  
“No, no, Milady, it is I who has to be thankful that you still insist on the concert. You, Lady Alandale, are the bravest and strongest woman I yet come to know.” A small laughter, vowing once more that she is well enough and then saying their goodbye until the evening.  
“You should know that I dislike that decision of yours.”  
“I don´t care, Armitage.” She turns around and walks back to the bedroom. “I do what I want. I am no trooper of yours you can command around.”  
“Oh, I am sorry that I care for your well-being, my dear, and thinking that a good, solid rest will do you better than a dinner with this buckethead and his girl gang! I am sorry that I speak out of experience, my dear and only, truly, want the best for you!” He follows her into the bedroom.  
“Experience?” An unladylike noise leaves her. “You must have so much experience in being kidnapped!”  
“In killing. I was talking about killing.”  
She was about to undo her hair, already slipped out of her shoes as she suddenly freezes. Slowly she turns around to face him again.  
“I have never been held hostage, but do you think I rose up to General without killing anyone?” There is no need to know for her that amongst those is his very own father. “It was your first kill, trust me, you´ll never forget that. It can haunt you, especially when you´re not used to it. I just don´t want you to be kept awake by nightmares.” He already takes over that part.  
She takes a deep breath, sighs and holds her gaze onto the floor. “I am sorry… I – I keep forgetting your occupation when you´re with me.” And that´s not even completely a lie.  
He steps closer again.  
“I am thankful and… charmed that you care so much for me but since my parents died I am not used to it anymore that someone worries honestly for my well-being. Since then I always had to fight on my own for myself. I am sorry, I didn´t want to be rude to you.”  
A small smile plays around his lips. “It´s alright. I too keep forgetting that you´re no delicate flower.” Close enough he puts his index finger beneath her chin, lifting her face until she can look at him. “How did it come that you were able to shoot him?”  
“He was distracted by the noise Phasma did. He was sloppy anyway, just tucked his blaster into his belt. I kicked his knee, so he would let go of me, took his blaster and… well.”  
“Impressive,” he nods.  
“How you flinched your attacker to the floor earlier was impressive too.”  
“ICE… Imperial Combat Exercises. Every officer must go through this on a regular basis. A regular training,” he shrugs with his shoulders.  
She places a hand onto his chest, draws invisible patterns on his uniform. “I would like to see more of this once,” she smirks.  
He laughs lowly. What are they even by now? Is this how simple lovers act around each other? How simple lovers act in general? She woke him by tenderly stroking through his hair, he can sleep peacefully next to her, he indeed missed their conversation, she makes him laugh and the other way too. He was truly worried about her and he knows he would have unleashed all corellian hells onto this scum if he would have harmed her. He… he realizes that he really feared for her. “You like it… physically, hm?”  
She shrugs her shoulders with a coy smile.   
He lowers his hand, stroking her hair over her shoulder with his gaze fixed on her collar bone, his thump softly rubbing the spot he pressed the muzzle of his blaster earlier against. “You would have let me shoot him through you? You would have let me shoot you?”  
“I have no doubt in your skills. I trust you. And as you said, it would have leave a scar I could be proud of. A mark of yours that would always stay, that everybody could see… The thought is quite thrilling.”  
“Are you trying to temp me? It sounds like a pretty idea with your words.”  
“First I would like to temp you to a nice hot bath. I think it would do us both a good service,” she smiles, taking his hand into hers and turns towards the refresher. “There are still four hours left until dinner. Enough time for both of us to relax.”  
“Do you mean relaxing or… relaxing,” he repeats in a seductive tone and a sly smile.  
“Depends on you,” she smirks with throwing a glance at him over her shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is almost no info to find about the Knights of Ren, so I gave Kylo a Girl Gang because why not. Bitches get shit done.   
> This and any names of them mentioned or will be mentioned are completely made up by me.   
> Just as the Canto Bight Casino owner.
> 
> The ICE - Imperial Combat Exercise is a real thing and mentioned in the Aftermath books. Every Stormtrooper and imperial officer had to take part regularly. With little Armitage growing up surrounded by imperials it´s pretty much likely that he too did and that it´s even a real thing in the FO.
> 
> like always: thanks for the kudos - comments are appreciated. :)


	15. Do you love me

He can´t say that he dislikes the feeling of being completely ordinary while they both get ready for the dinner. At least, he thinks, that´s how a real, ordinary couple acts around each other in such situations. He, pulling up the zipper of her dress on her back, she, straightening his uniform and stroking the wrinkles out of his arms, she, asking him for his opinion on which earrings she should wear and he couldn´t let the chance pass by to put her shoes onto her feet. Going down onto one knee, caressing her ankle and calve, a last chance of being intimidate before they leave her suite for the dinner. With those heels on she is almost as tall as he and he has no doubts that she can stab someone’s ribcage with these.  
After the incident earlier everybody, except her, seems to be on higher alert than usual. So, it´s no surprise that his Captain waits in front of the door for them, accompanying them to the restaurant and standing guard. Just two hours earlier she let him know that all of those, in their eyes, terrorists had been identified, their ship had been searched through, but it contained no value information about the Resistance that so desperately and persistent is in fighting them. She also told him that she´s is honestly impressed by her. Her quick thinking and fast reaction to disguise the clicking of the opening locks with her heels and of course taking the chance as she had it and killing her kidnapper.   
He too is slightly impressed how well she handles it. But maybe only later it will crash down over her. Maybe it will show in the form that she can´t sleep or only very uneasy. Maybe it will slowly over several days. Or maybe she is just really this strong. Time will show. But for now, he enjoys, with pride and arrogance, to walk down the whole way to the restaurant and their table with her on his arm. And even Ren won´t be able to ruin his mood for the evening with Amelia sitting next to him. To show all that by all admirers she has, Princes, Lords and Counts amongst them and their promises to make her Queen, he alone is her favourite one. He alone is her honourable guest, officially. He alone is invited into her wardrobe, he alone shares with her a suite, unofficially. He alone is invited into her apartment and to so much more. She could have been Queen by now for sure and yet…  
As they arrive they were still in time but everybody else was already seated at the table. Somehow, she always has the right timing…  
After the owner of the Casino and the two more or less very important people of Canto Bight greeted her properly, he drew back the chair for her, earning one of those sweets smiles she seems to safe for him alone.  
Just like she asked for, Ren and his Knights were also seated at the table. At least he had the decency to take off that ridiculous mask and leave it wherever. While this Lord Vader imposer looked at her suspicious the whole time, barely he took his eyes off her – he almost got jealous – his Knights had only admiration for her and were completely in awe by her. Understandable. At least they know what good art is.  
The meal, the different courses, were nice, but the small talk shallow and after that day he would rather spend the evening with her alone. Of course, the terrorist attack on the Casino and her kidnapping were the big topics tonight  
“… the bravest woman I yet gad the pleasure to meet!”  
A low laugh sounds from her. “That´s too much of a compliment, Sir. I wouldn´t sit here now if the bravest men and women of the Galaxy wouldn´t have given everything to bring those nasty people to justice and me into safety.” With a movement of her hand she gestures from Phasma to the General and over to the Knights and their master.  
“I would save you a million times, Milady,” blurts one of them out and blushes immediately, punished with a severe look by her master.  
“Your encouragement is honourable but I´ll make sure that it won´t come so far.” The General takes the Primadonnas hand into his, kissing its back with nothing but gentleness in his eyes.  
“And there is no place in the Galaxy I would feel safer than at your side, my dearest General,” she smiles softly.  
“So, the rumours are true then. You are courting Lady Alandale, General Hux.”  
“And if so, Lord Ba’ al,” he looks up to said Lord. “I wouldn´t know why this private matter should be of your concern. If there is nothing else in your dull life you can…”  
“What the General tries to say, Lord Ba’al, is that we simply appreciate in the First Order when matters of private nature stay private.”  
He indeed grew up amongst diplomats and politicians.  
“In the Order, we appreciate privacy.”  
Lord Ba’al, always looking as if something nasty lingers beneath his nose but that´s probably only the facial structure of his race, lifts one hand to his neck, slightly rubbing it.  
“Understandable. How uncouth of me. Please accept my deepest apologies.”  
Now it´s the General staring at the Master of the Knights of Ren. He knows exactly what he´s doing. He knows why Lord Ba’al has the urge to loosen an invisible collar from his neck. He swears, by all the stars, if he´s going to ruin this evening, he will shoot him down on the spot. That the richest of the rich in Canto Bight sitting at this table can only be promising for the First Order if a certain Force user is not going to ruin it.  
Slowly said Force user turns his head and one can say that they started a staring contest.  
“I can barely express how excited I am for tomorrow. I never gave a concert before, not to speak of in a Casino,” Amelia interacts before these two men really launch over the table and killing each other.  
“You will be splendid, Milady” You will shine like thousand suns! We will be blessed with your voice!”  
“Too many compliments at once again, Mister Zsuk,” she smiles.  
“Are you going to sing the Lullaby from the Sun Queen,” One of the Knights asks.  
“I do.”  
They started to whisper excited amongst each other. “And the Funeral Chant from the Knights Lament?”  
“Maybe as encore,” she winks.  
“By the Force, she winked at me!”  
“She winked at you!”  
“I wish she would wink at me…”  
“You are blessed…”  
Hushed whispers rise at the table amongst the young women.  
“And what about the Revenge Aria from the Princess Admiral? I really love that! It´s one of my favourites!”  
“It is indeed one of the best pieces that has ever been written for the arts.” Armitage turns his attentions back to Amelia. Once more a gentle kiss is placed on the back of her hand. He is an adult, he is a grown up, he is the first General of the Firs Order. He won´t go down on the level of this cheap magician. He knows better. “It blesses us with your whole range of your voice, showing us what human vocal chords can do. Truly written for the angel that you are.”  
A unison sigh from the Knights follows his words.  
It actually satisfies him a little bit that the Knights are fanning so hard over her. Only because he knows how much Ren despises it. How much he must hate it.   
Sure, they know how much their Master despises the General and the other way around too. But the General is dating the great Primadonna, Coruscants Angel. The most divine voice of the Galaxy. He treats her like a true gentleman. And looking a little bit closer, stretching out their senses and reading a little bit in the Force, they can read that the General truly…  
“Taska Ren.”  
Addressed Knight looks up, looking caught.  
“It is rude to stare...”  
“Sorry,” she murmurs, bowing her head and blushing. To her luck, the desert is served right now.

She wonders if he is jealous. Yes, she was aware of Master Ren staring at her. But she also knows exactly why. The faint hint of something lingering around her only a Force user can feel, almost tasting it on his tongue. Trying to figure out if she is truly sensitive or if it is simply a tiny nuance stronger than usual. Still, it floats through everyone and everything, no matter if he is the Jedi Killer or not.  
But Armitage can´t know. He probably thinks that Master Ren only tried to figure out a way to ruin this for him too, like he does with everything if she takes his tales for true and not as an exaggeration.   
But tonight, after the dinner, as they were back in her suite, he didn´t waste a single moment. As soon as the door shut close he urges his body against hers, pressing his lips onto her own, his hands only leaving her body to get rid of clothes. More passionate, underlined by a hint of desperation and the effort to make her probably forgetting all thoughts about everyone except him.  
Even minutes later and her telling him a hundred times that he doesn´t, he apologizes for having been too rough.  
He is jealous...  
“I am sorry…”  
“Armitage, for the last time… you don´t need to. For what?” She turns towards him, lifting herself upon one elbow. “It´s alright, I liked it. Honestly, I am surprised that you can be this… passionate. You… topped yourself.  
A small smirk grows on his lips. He reaches out with one hand, stroking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You can tell me when I have been too rough… It wasn´t my intention. I… I don´t know what got into me.”  
“Are you jealous?”  
“Jealous? Me? Why should I be jealous?” He draws his hand back, sitting up and turning his back at her.  
“Maybe because of Master Ren?”  
He was searching through his clothes and freezes suddenly. “That fool? Should I be jealous on his dreadful sense of fashion or his cheap magic tricks?”  
“He looked at me for the hole evening.”   
“Everyone at the table did. You are someone and just look in a mirror. You look breathtaking.” He turns halfway at her, eyes fixed on her. “Right now, more than ever… going after that logic I should be jealous on half of Coruscant.  
“Armitage…”  
He takes a deep breath and sighs. “Pardon me. I didn´t mean it like that… The day was just too stressful therefore that it originally promised to be a short vacation. And it´s also slightly unnerving that there is a lack in their security system while you´re here.”  
“Luckily you have Phasma for it.”  
He smirks. “Yes. Luckily… We should sleep now, don’t you think? You´ll have a great day tomorrow.”  
“And you need to stay awake during the concert.”  
“I could never fall asleep while you´re singing.”  
“Because either I or Phasma made you catching up with your lack of sleep before it.”  
Still with a smirk on his lips he lies back, waiting for her taking her place in his arm and then covering them both with the blanket. “You make it sound as if I would never sleep.”  
“You tend to abandon sleep for work.”  
“Not always.”  
“But often enough.”  
“Never when I am with you. You made strict rules.”  
She looks up with a smirk. “I also know a very delicate way to exhaust you so much that you simply fall asleep.”  
“The most delicious way.” He strokes with his fingertips through her hair, watching her snuggling closer like a seated cat. Yes he was… is jealous. He couldn´t help those thoughts rushing over him with Ren keeping his eyes fixed onto her. He knows that she´s attractive, he may be the one who beds her but he knows there are many others who wish to do so too. He recognises their glances. But none of them could do as much harm as a Force user. Thinking of all possible things he could do with any of these mind tricks unnerves him beyond imagination. Not to speak of that he´s younger and the dark, brooding kind always had a certain attraction on women, concerning his bloodline, he indeed is actually royal, and the Force is a whole different level of power and power was and will always be attractive.  
Yes. He is jealous. He can´t help the gnawing feeling in his guts. And the thoughts of mistrust that are coming suddenly over him. Is she even loyal to him when he´s not around? Is he her only affair or are there others? Is she really this easy to impress by power that she would abandon him for a Force user, for one who is closer to the Surpreme Leader? Is she this eager to climb the ladder? He never thought before that she might be like this. She never seemed to be like this. And deep down he knows that she isn´t that kind. He knows. But jealousy is a beast that doesn´t care for rational thoughts. He turns his head slightly, looking at her face. Relaxed, her breath calm and steady. Not a single sign of a troublesome sleep ´cause of this troublesome day. He also knows of her schedule, there is no way that she could fit in another affair next to him. There is o logical way that could tell of her betrayal, not even a physical one. If she really wanted to climb the ladder she wouldn´t have chosen him. If she really wanted to, she could have been Queen by now.  
Only tomorrow evening, he thinks. And then he´ll leave her again but where he goes does ren too and at least he´ll be far away from her then. No chance to influence her in any way.  
Assuming that she´s already sleeping he carefully strokes through her hair only with his fingertips. He was truly worried for her earlier. The thought that only the stars know what they could have done o her, all gruesome things human beings are able to, and out of own experience he knows that human beings are able to do a lot of gruesome things… If these Knights wouldn´t have hold him back, he would have cut a whole through the door himself.  
He wasn´t worried to possibly loose her for connections and money… but to think of that he might never again hear her laugh when he made her to…. Felt so dreadful. He would really miss her voice sighing his name while clinging onto him, her fingers in his hair… the simple and honest smile she gives him…  
She makes him sleep properly, makes sure he eats properly because she cares…. She simply cares for him as a person and not for his rank. You don´t act like that when you only have your own advantage in mind. When did someone ever simply cared for him? Even Sloane only had her own advantage in mind, it´s the bitter truth he had to accept. That´s probably the reason why he suddenly fell so hard for her as soon as she signed that she cares. Without realizing it he was starving for that kind of affection.  
“Amelia,” he whispers. Nothing. “Amelia,” he tries again, stroking over her cheek. “Hmm,” is the only noise he can hear from her, accompanied by a sigh.  
“Amelia… Do you love me?”  
It´s silent for several seconds where his heart feels like it would stop to beat.  
“Of course, di´kut,” she murmurs lowly and sleepy, sighs once more and snuggles closer.  
A wide smile spreads over his face. “Really?” He doesn´t care right now that he doesn´t know the meaning of the word ´di´kut`, what it is, which language she just spoke. That´s not important right now.  
“HmmHmm…”  
“You really do?”  
“Yeah… cyar’ika… my cyar’ika… cyar’ika,” she murmurs, yawns once and is silent again.  
“That´s good to hear… nice to hear… my love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Di'kut - Mando'a for Idiot  
> cyar’ika - Mando'a for My Love, my Dear, an expression for affection.


	16. Of course, idiot

He looked up the words, she murmured in her sleep, the next morning. Like always he was awake long before her and first thing he did was taking his datapad and looking these two words up. He was surprised. Mando'a. How and why does she know... He tries to remember if she ever used it for a role, but nothing comes to his mind. These words had been also too specific that she caught them simply somewhere. Idiot and Darling. _Of course, idiot. – My Darling_. To his question if she might love him she answered with of course. _Of course, idiot_ as if it would be the most ordinary thing in the galaxy to love him. He looks up to the ceiling. Probably he just imagines that his heart beats faster with these words. He looks at her again. Lying half on her side, half on her belly, the hair dishevelled, and one side of her face pressed into a pillow, the blanket slightly kicked off… How could he ever have thought of her of just being average beautiful when she´s even in this state of the morning, still asleep, so magnificent in his eyes… he blames the imagination of his faster beating heart for it. It must be an imagination, the strange feeling he gets when he looks at her, thinks of her, when she smiles at him.   
He rubs his chest where it feels so strange beneath it. He doesn´t deny how good it feels when she´s around, how good he feels. It´s true, he is spared of any nightmares and other haunting demons when she rests next to him. Together with her strict rules concerning work in a private environment he really feels for the first time truly being off duty. Giving him a little bit normality, a life beside military drill and order. He didn´t thought that it could feel good.  
Doing such tranquil, ordinary stuff, ordinary couples probably do. Sleeping and waking up next to each other, looking at each other in the mirror while brushing teeth, adjusting each other’s attire, simply holding her in his arm after they slipped out of their shoes and falling onto her sofa after a long party… It´s not any longer just the need to gain access to the rich ones or the manly pride to bed the famous Coruscants Angel.  
He sighs and turns onto his side, watching her being still asleep. He stretches out one arm and carefully stroking strands of hair out of her face. He admits, first he didn´t know how to handle her little signs of affection, didn´t know how to react to these. It was new to him. Her small kiss on the corner of his lips. When he fell asleep, with every nap he takes accidentally, she always wakes him up by stroking with the back of her index finger over his sideburn. When he´s lost in his datapad she sneaks up from behind and strokes his hair back, accompanied by a little laugh and a kiss on his cheek. Her little honest signs of affection confused him first. Now they belong to the things he`s excited for when he meets her.

_“The new Empire that´s about to rise will live through generations. Better and stronger than the last one, merciless.”  
He only slightly turned his head to look at the man he is to call father. Standing on the bridge of the Absolution and looking out into the wide dark nothing of space in front of them. It always fascinated him. Pitch black. Nothing. Nothing that can survive out there. No air to breath. No sound to be heard. No screams of any being could ever be heard out there… ‘Nothing’ that can kill you in the cruellest way. ‘Nothing’ that holds so much power… Sometimes he thinks of pushing his father simply into the next airlock and…  
“For that we need to pass on our skills to the future generations, the elite amongst mankind…”  
Speaks his father, old and fat, lazy… the elite amongst mankind. If he wouldn´t had been raised that well, he would have laughed.   
“…our sons and daughters.”  
He restrained himself not to snort at these words. Instead he turns his gaze back to the dark space, his hands folded in his back.   
“You should find yourself a suitable wife and produce some.”   
“Then I just have to do the exact opposite of what you did, father.”_

The strike with the flat hand that followed was unpredictable fast for his father’s state and age, unexpected strong too. He bit the inside of his cheek, bled from his lips and nose. He still remembers it. Marry and produce the future elite of the Order, they said.  
He would consider her as suitable. No, not consider. That sounds wrong. She… would just feel right. Yes. She would feel right. He could imagine it with her. Wearing his promise ring and bearing his children, his legal children – he´s not his father. He won´t do the mistakes he did – and sleeping for the rest of his life peaceful without any nightmares. Conquering the whole Galaxy with her at his side, watching him rising to full power and glory.  
But he´s not sure if she´s even the type of person for it. To marry and have children. Would she even say yes? She has her own career, she makes her own money, she´s independent and doesn´t need him in the slightest. Why should she say yes then if he would ask? Would she give up her career to play only one role for the rest of her life? When she could play every evening a new one? Would she play the obedient wife and loving mother only? Doubtful.  
Would she be patient? Waiting for him every time that he returns? Looking up into the sky, waiting to see the Finalizer appearing next to the moons and suns, with a little boy or girl on her arms, pointing to the ship and saying with a gleeful smile that there works his or her father? He can´t imagine it. He doesn´t think she would stay on the Finalizer either. She’s not a bird that can be caged. She appears like a singing bird, but he guesses that once caged she turns into a raptor. He guesses too that she will grow tired of waiting. Watching him leaving again and again, waiting days, weeks and months for him to return. No matter how many victories he achieves, how hard he works to make himself worthy in her eyes, no matter if he showers her with flowers and jewelleries. No present, no money can excuse his absence. She would be suitable in his eyes but probably too cunning and smart for the ideal image of an officer’s wife.   
She sighs, and he pulls his hand back. So fast one could think he burned himself at her skin. She turns onto her back, sighs again and stretches like a cat with a yawn. Covering her eyes with one arm before rubbing these and opening these after blinking a few times. With another sigh she looks at him and starts to smile. “Good morning.”  
“You called me di’kut and cyar’ika.”  
Confusion grows on her face. “What?”  
“Last night. You were almost asleep and called me di’kut and your cyar’ika. I looked those words up. Do you speak Mando’a?”  
“Wha… no, I don´t know, I…” Slowly she sits up, pinching the bridge of her nose and taking a deep breath. “I have no idea what you´re talking about, I don´t even remember such a conversation, Armitage please… I just woke up…”  
“I was just curious.” He rolls onto his back, folding his hands on his stomach and looking up to the ceiling. Fool.   
“Armitage, I really have no idea…”  
“It´s alright. You mumbled these words and I was just curious.” He sits up and turns his back to her.  
“What… what do they mean? Those words? You said you looked them up.”  
He wanted to stand up and stops. “Di’kut means idiot. You said ‘of course, di’kut. And then ‘my cyar’ika.’ Darling.”  
“I-I don´t speak Mando’a, no. I am sorry, I don´t remember you asking me anything, I was tired, exhausted… I probably caught these words somewhere… You hear so many languages here…”  
“Thought so.” He rises, walking around the bed towards the refresher.  
“Armitage, what were you asking me even?”  
“Forget it, it´s not important,” he smiles.  
It´s a fake smile, she knows. It´s not the usual smile he gives her. “Armitage…”  
“Just forget it, alright? It´s not important,” he smiles and stops his way to the refresher. Turning to the bed again and kneeling on the mattress, taking her face between his hands and kissing her. “Care to join me?”  
“Give me one moment.”  
Another kiss and he lets go of her, continuing his way.  
Only with the door shut she takes a deep breath and shortly admits the panic that makes her heart already beating faster. A low buzzing sound from the nightstand distracts her. Fastly she grabs her earring and pushing it. “What,” she hisses.  
“First he asked, ‘Do you love me’ That’s your ‘Of course, di’kut’. Then he asked you ‘You really do?’ to which you replied ‘Yeah cyar’ika. My cyar’ika’ and he called you ‘My love’. You pressed one of the communicators while he banged you. I assume accidentally. That you pressed the communicator, not that he banged you. That didn´t sound accidentally.”  
“Haar’chak!”  
“You say it, ori’vod. We heard everything. Kriffing everything.”  
“I was tired, I was exhausted, the day was long, whoever this was who pulled up this heist knew of my true identity…”  
“We understand… yet you admitted that you love him.”  
“Listen…”  
“Do you?”  
“What?”  
“Do you love him? Do you love General Armitage Hux? General of the First Oder?... You´re hesitating.”  
“Beviin…”  
“Amelia, listen. You can fuck who you want. You can love who you want. I understand that your job got complicated, you know, playing his sweetheart and developing some actual feelings for him, I can understand. Hey, he can ban truly charming if he wants to, he got you nice presents, he truly seemed to be worried about you yesterday. Just be careful. Just be careful, okay? We won´t tell anyone, promise.”  
She sighs, closing her eyes. “Vor’e,” she whispers.  
“And by all our ancestors! Shut the communicators down when you bang him!”  
She laughs lowly. “I am sorry… It was an accident… It won´t happen again, promise.”  
“Hope so… Now shut it down and go, he´s waiting in the refresher. I´ve heard morning sex should be very delightful.” “I know it is,” a second voice in the background is to be heard.” “And I don´t want to hear that either!”  
She presses the earring and looking up to the door where the refresher is behind. ‘My love’… Does she love him? Is this love? Like this, would it be possible to make him deflect the Order? Would he leave the First Order? His whole life he knew nothing except this. He was always surrounded by officers and soldiers. He knows no life outside of the Order. Could all of this have been enough to make him rethink his choice? Could it have been enough to plant the thought to deflect?  
She throws the blanket back and leaves the bed. If she convinces him of her feelings then maybe…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> di’kut - idiot  
> cyar’ika - darling, loved one  
> Haar’chak - Damn it  
> Ori'vod - big sister/brother  
> Beviin - lance


End file.
